A Way with Words
by The Jumble Book
Summary: Peeta's been rescued from the Capitol and he's not been Hijacked. However he's not escaped unscathed. Snow always knew the boy had, had a way with words. How will Peeta cope without that talent? How will the rebellion cope without it? How will Katniss?
1. Back

**Here we go, my own little Hunger Games fanfic.** I've got a few ideas zooming around in my head all fighting for my attention and this one was what I thought was going to happen when and if Peeta finally returned in Mockingjay. I was a little off I must say.

**Warnings: **Contains spoilers for all three books but really, if you're on the Hunger Games fanfiction site having not read them you've only yourself to blame for finding out what happens. This fic contains angst, a few words that would make Effie Trinket cringe, deals with disability and associated discrimination. This fic will contain discriminatory language, as someone who works with people with various disabilities I in no way endorse the use of some of the words in this fic but I'm also not going to pretend these prejudices don't exist.

**Disclaimer: **You all know the drill by now, Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games, everything which the Hunger Games encompasses and possibly even Hungry Hungry Hippos. That doesn't stop me using all of these things for my own entertainment.

_Chapter One: Back_

I'm vaguely aware of my body being moved from side to side. As I start to reawaken I realise I'm being shaken awake and start to recognise that unmistakable scent of someone that has used deodorant instead of a shower for a few days; Haymitch.

"M'up!" I mumble. I rub at my eyes to try wake myself up a bit more before all my memories come hurtling back towards me and I'm launched into full consciousness. The mission. One way or another it was over. I scramble to my feet, I'd been sleeping in a chair next to Finnick who I notice is still huddled on the floor, string entwined in his raw fingers. I'm barely even aware of the pain in my own hands as I await news from my mentor. "What's happened?"

"They're back. We're wanted in the Hospital, that's all I know," says Haymitch. He then pokes Finnick in his side with his foot a couple times and the younger victor wakes looking so pathetic I bend down and help him to his feet, relaying what Haymitch has just said to me.

Finnick looks like he's about to throw up, run a mile and cry all at the same time. Luckily for me and Haymitch he does none of those things, but he also doesn't shoot for the Hospital as I would have liked. I have to take his hand and guide him there, it's like he's lost in his own world. Can't say I don't know how he's feeling. My own little world has become more and more like a second home these past weeks.

Haymitch takes the lead down the multiple corridors towards the Hospital. Plenty of people pass us; I glance at Haymitch's watch and discover it's eight-thirty two. I'm not sure if it's morning or evening, I'm guessing morning, unless Finnick and I have slept for a number of hours I don't have the concentration to count.

Some of the people send us these weird looks as we walk past, have they already seen those who've returned from the mission? They don't look happy, but then the only time I've ever actually seen them happy is when they were watching Buttercup chase a torch light, not really much to compare with I suppose. But still I can't help myself thinking; do they know something I don't? Do they know who's waiting for me down a couple more corridors? Annie, Gale, Boggs, Johanna, Peeta? I know I shouldn't but I start listing who I want back the most. Enobaria I don't really care about, I wouldn't wish her to be tortured but I barely knew her. Boggs and Johanna I can't quite decide between for fourth and fifth on my wish list. Then Annie. And that leaves Gale and Peeta. Who do I want more?

Well that does it. Before I know it I've dropped Finnick's hand and I'm tearing towards the hospital probably looking like I've just escaped capture myself. I don't care.

I crash through the double doors and I get a sensation so similar to the feeling I used to get when I collected my grade cards from school a lifetime ago. I used to stare at the grades first, looking for any outstandingly horrific marks and worry about which subjects they were for after my brain had time to process the first shock. Damage control.

I'm looking around for where the most doctors are, where people are running to and from carrying various pieces of equipment and supplies. But it's quiet. Well, not completely. There's the usual buzz of machines and men and women at work but no sense of impending doom that I was expecting.

Gale's on his front groaning as a Nurse works on pulling a shard of something from his shoulder, he's well enough to complain so he's well enough for me. That's one worry down.

"Finnick!" I flinch at the scream that comes from across the other side of the room. I watch as a young woman with unkempt hair and wild eyes runs through the Hospital earning more than one look of disapproval from the Medics in the room. But as she runs into Finnick's outstretched arms I don't think even the hard-faced natives of District 13 could be angry with the pair as they cling to one another sobbing. I'm pretty sure Finnick's screaming and I hope the Medics aren't going to try drugging him; he needs this reunion to be as drug free as possible. That's how I want my reunion with Peeta to be-

_Peeta._

"PEETA!" I cry, realizing at last that he's not in the general treatment area. My eyes take one last sweep for that wavy blond hair and those safe arms but there's nothing. So there's two other places he could be.

I remember Prim once telling me about the ITR; Intensive Treatment Room. It's a room reserved for those in life-or-death situations and those whose injuries require a quieter environment for the Medics to concentrate on. That always struck me as odd; these were meant to be the people who could deal with anything anywhere. Why would they need that extra room away from the majority of the supplies when they'd been trained to work anywhere. But Prim had explained that the Medics of District 13 hadn't been trained for anything anywhere. Half of them had never left the confines of their underground bunker and they were all too young to have worked through the Dark Days so most of them were used to a much slower pace of work. Coin had never been one to focus on the medical side of things, as far as she's concerned a better army means fewer casualties, and that's cheaper than having more Doctors and Nurses flying around.

The ITR wasn't the only place Peeta could be though, Prim had told me about another room one floor below, one with no Medics zooming round and no supplies, in that room they weren't needed. I shuddered at the thought of being escorted down to the Morgue.

"Peeta!" I can feel tears running down my face as I stumble through the Hospital, I don't care how much of a mess I must look. Peeta's somewhere in here and after weeks of nothing but a few tapes and my own thoughts, the knowledge that he's so close is almost unbearable. "Peeta!"

"Katniss," I whip around at the familiar voice and come face to face with my Mother. She looks tired and her white uniform is marked with blood and other bodily fluids. This is an uncommon sight; a Medic's job is never clean and since no one can decide whether my Mother better suits a Doctor or a Nurse they just let her work where ever there's the most blood pouring and give her a generic title of Healer Everdeen.

I know that she's been personally seeing to Peeta, I can read her like a book. My heart is pounding beyond anything I've ever felt before, if she doesn't hurry up and tell me what's happening soon I'm pretty sure my heart's going to beat itself right out of my chest.

"He's through here," she leads me to the end of Hospital towards a set of heavy looking double doors. "He's alive,"

I feel like dropping to the ground before we even reach the doors, all anxieties about Peeta's survival seem to have disappeared. My Mother knows how to get me to calm down in situations like this, it's a shame she wasn't able to use those skills when my Father died.

Somehow I drag myself through the doors into the ITR after my Mother and as soon as I lay eyes on him I'm at the side of the bed, barely able to keep myself standing, I'm leaning heavily on the bed bars for support.

The man laying before me is almost unrecognisable. The clothes he was wearing in the Capitol are gone, replaced by a thin hospital gown that just reaches his knees. His hair's a mess of knots and a light beard has formed around his face. His prosthetic leg has been removed, I don't think much of it, I've seen Peeta without his leg before now, grown used to seeing the odd cross scarring across the stump that once lead to his calf and foot.

His body looks so much smaller than the last time I saw him. He's emaciated, my mind wanders back to the dozens of Seam kids that would be taken to our house, all fighting malnutrition, only half surviving. But I tell myself it'll be different with Peeta, there's plenty of food for him here, he'll recover from that. But it still doesn't stop me being sickened by how skinny his arms now are, they're a similar size to mine now. My new goal in life isn't to kill Snow or win back the Districts. It's to fatten up the boy in front of me until he's normal Peeta again.

I'm just examining the bruises that line his face when my Mother places a hand on my shoulder.

"I know it seems bad now," she says. "But he's a real fighter, most would be dead after that amount of torture but he's held in. If I can't get him through this last hurdle now I'm not fit to call myself a Healer,"

I sniff and nod then stroke the soft hair that's grown on Peeta's cheek. It feels weird, but it's comforting just to be able to touch him again.

"He should be waking up soon, they used sleep gas on the rescue mission and I think Peeta's cell got the majority of it," my Mother explains. "Then we can sort out how we're going to deal with his mouth,"

_Huh?_ Did she just say something about his mouth? I look at his lips, they look a bit sore and chapped but I'm sure he'll survive that. My mind's too sluggish to think any further so I turn around and face my Mother.

"What about his mouth?" I ask. Her eyes shift slightly to Peeta then back to me. _No_. I know that look, it's the one she always gives families when there's bad news. But she just said he'll be waking up soon, she said he was going to be okay! This is wrong! So wrong. I'm slipping from the bed but my Mother's already had the sense to put a chair behind me. She really does know what she's doing here so I just wait for her to speak.

"Katniss," she starts, her voice is gentle and to an extent it soothes me. "It seems that Snow was even angrier with what Peeta did than we had thought, and there's not much we can do but try to work with it-"

"Just tell me what's wrong with him!" I nearly scream, I'm ready to open Peeta's mouth myself and find out what's happened when my Mother tells me the most excruciating thing I've had to hear since I found out Peeta had been captured.

"They cut out his tongue Katniss," she says.

I afford one glance at Peeta before I'm running for the door and the limited contents of my stomach are making a quick exit to the floor via my oesophagus.

**So there's chapter one folks.** I'm trying to do a bit of research on the implications of losing a tongue and since that's not going brilliantly I'm just trying to do everything without moving my tongue and keeping it as close to the bottom of my mouth as I can. Seriously, just try swallowing without having your tongue touch the roof of your mouth. Might help give you insight into what Peeta will be going through, it's certainly going to help me!

ALSO CALLING ALL BETA's. If anyone's interested in beta'ing this bad-boy, the thing I struggle with most is keeping to one tense so anyone who's good at staying in the present PM me. Cheers!


	2. Empty

**Chapter two!** What'll happen next? Ooh bet the suspense is killing you! No? Ah well, worth a shot. I'd like to say a big, big thank you to anyone who reviewed, I'll probably be updating once a week, I was onto the third chapter by the time my first chapter was up but my muse doesn't always work that quickly. So I'm proposing one chapter every Tuesday. It can be your very own Way with Words Tuesday! A quick message to **Kat**: Thanks for the research! The website only allows private messages between members I'm afraid, but once again, any research is very much appreciated! And now, on with some legal stuff.

**Warnings: **See Chapter one for full details. This chapter will contain spoilers for all books, language, angsty goodness and will deal with themes that some readers may not feel comfortable with.

**Disclaimer: **If I was in charge Prim and Finnick would still be very much alive, Effie and Haymitch would get jiggy with it after a few too many white liquors, Gale and Madge would live happily ever after in a woods somewhere and Peeta and Katniss's children would have actual names. But no, Suzanne Collins owns Hunger Games.

_Chapter Two: Empty._

"Well you certainly picked the right place to puke, Sweetheart," Haymitch chuckles and hands me a glass of water. I sip carefully at it then just hold it in my hands; I've stopped shaking enough to not slop water over the sides. After emptying my stomach my Mother lead me to a chair outside ITR and called over Haymitch to look after me. I was a wreck at first, my hands wouldn't stay still, I kept feeling like I was going to throw up again but I knew there was nothing there. The worst feeling though, the one that I'm still struggling to ignore, is the heaviness of my tongue in my mouth, it feels like it's made of lead and the more I think about it the more my thoughts go to Peeta.

How the hell do you live without a tongue? I try swallowing without moving it and the whole action feels so difficult and more like retching – which is probably what Haymitch thinks I'm doing – than swallowing. I try to put it down to having just thrown up but I can't help thinking about other things that I wouldn't be able to do without my tongue.

Being able to taste food, that probably wouldn't bother me too much especially with the slop they serve here but then surely Peeta had relied on his sense of taste a lot more when he worked for his Father. Surely a sense of taste was much more important.

The less mature side of my brain instantly got me thinking about kissing. That classic saying 'No tongues' suddenly seemed pretty repulsive but comforting at the same time. I think of Peeta leaning in then saying it and bursting into laughter and-

_Saying it..._

That's when it hits me.

I'm never going to hear Peeta say that.

I'm never going to hear Peeta say anything ever again.

Snow wasn't just sticking with an old habit when he had Peeta's body mutilated. This was so much more calculating.

He knew Peeta had the ability to win crowds by just a couple well placed words. He'd never been that remarkable before the Games: not a sex symbol like Finnick, not incredibly intelligent like Fox face had been. Okay he's great at art, but you don't win the affections of a country by decorating cakes. No, Peeta's saving grace in the Hunger Games had been his ability to turn a whole crowd to his side, to make them believe in our undying love for each other _twice_.

So Snow had removed that ability as soon as he had the chance.

"That bastard," I hiss and Haymitch puts an arm around me, I flinch. I'm not used to caring, tactile Haymitch; I'm guessing the lack of drink is making him that little bit more compassionate. I'm not sure if I like it.

"Figured it out then, Sweetheart?" he says and barks out a laugh. "I had a feeling he'd pull something like this,"

"This is so wrong Haymitch," I say. "This should never have happened, we were meant to protect Peeta. He had nothing to do with any of this, well... not willingly anyway. You should have saved him instead of me, he didn't deserve this,"

"Oh drop it," Haymitch withdraws his arm and I shoot him a look. "Drop the whole 'Dough boy's innocent and I'm so evil' act. Neither of you can be blamed for this, okay? This was a major screw up on our part but we're fixing it-"

"_Fixing it_?" I nearly scream, people are watching but I don't care. "You call this fixing it? Peeta's laid in there without a tongue. Fix that!"

"Would you prefer it if he was back with Snow?"

"I'd prefer to never have had him in this mess! I'd prefer you to have done your job in the first place and do the one thing I asked you to do!" I don't care that deep down I know there's nothing Haymitch could have done; arguing is the only thing that's keeping me sane right now.

"Maybe you shouldn't have run off with Johanna then," Haymitch folds his arms. He knows he's crossed a line, especially after just telling me none of this was my fault. I see red.

I'm scratching at Haymitch's face like last time, scratching at his eyes. But this time he's ready, he pins my arms against a wall and holds his face about an inch from mine.

"Stop it," He growls at me. "Or he won't be the only one needing that Hospital bed,"

I spit in his face and lift a knee to his groin. If he wants to play dirty I can play dirty too. He's back to trying to pin me to a wall when I feel another hand on my shoulder.

We both stop and I see a similar hand on Haymitch's shoulder. We look towards the source and there's my Mother, clearly not interested why her daughter was being held against a wall by a man twice her age.

"Your fighting has woken Mr. Mellark up; he's willing to see you Katniss,"

Suddenly Haymitch isn't there anymore; in fact the only thing that is existent is the pair of double doors to my right. I move away from Haymitch with perhaps a bit too much force – I feel my arm catch his chest roughly – and follow my Mother, she walks through the doors first and then I enter.

He looks even worse awake. He's still laid down but his head is turned towards me so as I cross the room I focus only on his uncharacteristically thin face. His skin looks almost the colour of ash and his eyes are so bloodshot it's difficult to make out his light irises from a distance. But he's smiling. Typical. Who else but Peeta would get tortured for a couple months only to be smiling like he's just won a year's supply of icing sugar? I want whatever cakes he's been eating all his life to make him that happy; and lots of them... right now.

I crouch slightly by his bedside and try to brush a piece of stray hair from his face but it just falls back down into place. I'm about to lower my hand but Peeta moves his head against my fingers and closes his eyes. I'm briefly reminded of the way Buttercup does a similar action with Prim. So I move my thumb back and forth over his forehead and wind his hair in my fingers. I half expect him to start purring. His breathing starts to slow and I lean in, worried he's about to slip away but the breaths become more familiar and I realise he's fallen asleep.

"He's very weak," says my Mother. "It'll be a long time before he can leave Hospital, but if we can get him through these coming weeks he should make a full recovery,"

There's so many things in that statement that I want to question. What does she mean '_if _we can get him through'? Is death still a viable option? I shake my head at how ridiculous I'm being; death has always been an option in Peeta's life since his name was drawn at the Reaping. I also want to question how Peeta's expected to make a '_full _recovery' with his tongue missing. Do they have access to prosthetic tongues here? I highly doubt it; half the Medics are probably in a room somewhere marvelling at Peeta's fake leg. Here the main focus is on survival, anything after that is negligible until it becomes a problem.

I'm sat in the chair that's been drawn once again by my Mother; she's also lowered the bar on Peeta's bed so I can lay my head on the spongy, sterile smelling surface. I close my eyes and drift off with my hand still wound in Peeta's hair.

I wake up not long after to find a Doctor I've not met before checking some files and standing next to Peeta's bed.

"Good afternoon Miss Everdeen," he smiles at me and I can't help but like him. His face looks warm, probably something to do with the red-brown beard covering the majority of it. His squinty green eyes are creased at the sides, laughter lines is what my Father used to call them. "I'm Doctor Harker; I'm just here to check Peeta over, I'm sorry to have disturbed you,"

I shake my head and straighten up.

"Don't worry about it," I say stifling a yawn. I look down at Peeta as I untangle my fingers from his hair and something catches my eye. His pillow looks damp, at first I wonder if he has a fever and I'm glad he's already sweating it out, always a good sign. But then I realise the dampness is concentrated in one spot, next to his slightly parted mouth. It's not open enough to see much, part of me wants to pull down his chin and look inside, and another part of me wants to run a mile.

Before I can choose which part of my brain to listen to Doctor Harker has extracted a tissue from a box on Peeta's bedside, wiped the side of his mouth and turned his face towards the ceiling. Peeta stirs for a few seconds, makes a sound halfway between a choke and a deep inhale and goes back to his peaceful state.

"Excessive production of saliva is said to be quite common in tongue amputation victims," I'm too tired and anxious to take half of that on board, Harker apparently picks up on this because he quickly translates. "Peeta's drooling because he's lost his tongue, he'll learn to control his swallowing in time and he should produce less saliva once his body has become used to the change. In the mean time, keep these close to hand," Harker lifts the tissue box and places it back down.

I nod. Peeta looks so vulnerable right now, having someone wipe his mouth for him and making that noise when he tried to swallow whatever saliva was left in his mouth. I shake my head, the drooling will pass, I refuse to watch him with pity and treat him like he's intellectually damaged.

"You may want to look away if you're squeamish," he says taking out a small torch from his pocket. "I need to examine Peeta's mouth,"

I look away but don't make any other movement; I'm staying until Peeta's woken back up.

"Fascinating," says Harker. I look at his face, realise he's not far from Peeta's mouth, blanch slightly and turn back to staring at the floor. Okay, so I'm not quite ready for that yet. I wait until I hear the click of the torch and see Harker close Peeta's mouth out of the corner of my eye. "I'm impressed,"

"Let me guess, you're not talking about his pearly white teeth," I try to joke but it comes out all wrong, like I'm about to start crying. I probably am.

"No, although he's from 12 with no scurvy and all his teeth still intact which is also impressive, that's not what I was talking about," I sigh as Harker actually uses humour correctly but wait for him to continue. "They really did quite a job on Peeta's tongue, if it weren't so cruel I'd be fit to admire it more."

I gulp, starting to wonder if Harker is just like the other Doctors in a slightly friendlier packaging, obsessed with learning and marvelling at the abnormal rather than actually coming up with treatments, but then he starts to speak again.

"Really they've done us a favour. The likelihood of any infections setting in is slim to nil, the scars are neat, everything's healing up very nicely. Tongues are generally quick to heal but this is beyond anything we could've hoped for, besides him still having a tongue of course,"

I laugh, actually properly laugh. The ridiculousness of the whole situation is astounding, I'm sat here, barely able to look at the boy in front of me and yet I'm so elated to hear that his tongue scars are healing nicely I almost want to rip his mouth open and admire the handiwork myself.

"Vitals are looking better than when he first arrived but he needs to gain weight fast or other organs are going to suffer," the Doctor makes his way to a cabinet and pulls out a small tub of what looks a bit like a curry I tried in the Capitol once, it's a light brown but doesn't contain any of the extras the Capitol curry had such as raisins and chicken. "This is a high-fat, high-protein, vitamin-enriched five hundred calorie paste, also known as every woman's worst nightmare. No need for chewing, if he's having trouble though it can be mixed with milk or water and drank through a straw, but try to get him to have the paste 'dry' within the next week. I'll write him up a prescription for four weeks worth and we'll see how his weight's improving,"

I smile and look to the paste on Peeta's bedside. This is how I'm going to fatten him up; this is my weapon in the battle for Peeta's arms.

"Goodbye Miss Everdeen, I'll pass Peeta's requirements onto the other members of staff before I leave and I'll be back in three days for a brief assessment," he smiles once more and I debate giving him a hug but by the time I've made my decision he's already out the door.

I turn back to Peeta and notice his face tensing slightly, he's frowning and I feel a pain across my chest as he whimpers slightly and brings a hand to where my hand had been when he fell to sleep. I place my hand back and his arm goes limp by his side; that action alone must have been draining.

Nonetheless, his eyelids are flickering as I knew they would when he started frowning – Peeta never moves in his sleep – and before I know it he's awake. Neither of us moves, I don't make a sound, for a few precious moments, we just look at one another.

**And that's the second chapter boys and girls.** The research on tongues isn't going fantastically, there's plenty on the amputation of animal – particularly dog – tongues but they just had to have a different anatomy to humans didn't they? So I'm just going to wing it and guess at just about everything. If anyone else knows where I can find more valid information let me know. Any tongue doctors in the house? Always worth an ask. And for anyone who's interested, the paste that Harker prescribes is based on a product called Plumpy'Nut which is a calorie-fat-protein-high peanut butter paste being given to children mainly in Africa to help combat malnutrition. I have no idea if it's ever given to adults but y'know what, it's my fic, I can do what I like!

Also, time to ask for reviews! Don't feel you have to leave one but if anyone has any advice for me on tongues or anything else in the fic that would be great. And if you do want to just give a bit of praise or constructive criticism that would be very nice too, but don't feel like you have to. And now I'm going to sign off because it's two in the morning. Sure is good I'm on a reading week, eh?


	3. Awkward

**Time for the third chapter I reckon!** I'm a bit worried that this fic is going a bit slow, or it's not going slow enough, but more that it's going too slow... It'll quicken up a bit after this, promise folks!

**Warning: **Contains spoilers for all three Hunger Games books, situations of an awkward nature and Haymitch.

**Disclaimer: **Suzanne owns everything in the Hunger Games so I'll never fulfil my dreams of having Buttercup rule over Panem... although this fic really could go anywhere.

_Chapter Three: Awkward._

_Come on Katniss, _I think to myself. _Say something. Anything._

I've been staring down at Peeta now for an uncomfortably long period of time, he doesn't move to look away and neither do I, but still, the awkwardness of this whole situation is making me want to avert my eyes.

_It doesn't have to be something compelling Katniss, just something that makes sense. _My brain's in overload with the different things I could say. Do I tell him how much I've missed him? That I'll never let him out of my sight again for as long as I live? Should I swear vengeance on Snow for what he's done? So many amazing things I could tell him, these'll be the first kind words he's heard in months. A simple 'I'm glad you're back' perhaps? Or maybe-

"You should eat something,"

Wow. I astound even myself sometimes. Thanks brain, out of all the different phrases that would have brought happiness to Peeta's life you pick _that_. I shouldn't be allowed near people in any situation. Ever.

But Peeta doesn't seem to mind; in fact he nods slowly and tries to push himself up the bed. I had been worried about whether or not he was aware of his tongue no longer being part of his body, but he doesn't seem stressed and I'm pretty sure I'd notice if I woke up without the thing that occupies the majority of my mouth. Snow had probably had it removed straight after Peeta's last interview to make sure nothing like that happened again.

After a few attempts to plant his arms and push himself upright he's exhausted, his arms go limp again and his eyes start to flutter shut.

"Peeta," I say and stroke his cheek. He clenches his eyes for a moment but then reopens them and looks me straight in the eye. "I can help you sit up if you want,"

He just smiles and I take this for a 'yes', he's too weak to even nod anymore.

I place an arm behind his back to pull him up and rest one hand on his stomach to push as gently as possible. I'm mildly nauseated by how easy the action is; Peeta should be a challenge to move, I certainly shouldn't be able to slide him up a bed on my own with this amount of ease.

I rearrange his pillows to make him more comfortable then turn to grab a spoon from a table in the corner with various utensils. Some are regular items you'd have in your own home like cutlery; others are definitely for medical use, clamps, tiny mirrors, torches. Like the world's most prepared kitchen counter.

I turn back and find Peeta slumped with his head lolling in front of him, a thin line of drool brimming over his bottom lip. I touch his arm and he quickly snaps back to reality, wiping his mouth as best he can with his weakened arm.

He looks at the paste as though it's going to eat him. I roll my eyes and explain what it is.

"It's good for you, you need fattening up so the Doctor's given you this for a few weeks, just until you gain a few more pounds," he still doesn't look convinced."Would it make you feel better if I had some first?"

Peeta nods, or at least tries to, his head doesn't come all the way back up so I sit on the bed directly in front of his line of vision. I pop off the lid, set that to one side then scoop out half a spoonful of the paste and eat it.

"Y'know what?" I say, slowly rotating the tub in my hand. "I don't think you'd like this,"

I wink at Peeta and he flashes me a toothy grin then settles his eyes on the food, practically begging with his eyes now that it has my approval.

"_Fine,_" I'm actually a little upset about having to give this to Peeta; it's good, much better than the muck they give the rest of us. But my conscience tells me Peeta probably needs it more than I do.

I don't bother asking Peeta if he wants to feed himself, he can barely keep his head up and I can see his eyes growing heavier with each minute so I take another half spoonful and wait for him to open his mouth.

He doesn't open his mouth far enough for me to see anything but I'm still wary to keep eye contact and not let my focus drift to the gaping empty hole that is his mouth.

It's not hard to see after a couple attempts to chew and swallow Peeta's going to need a bit of help. Not having a tongue means he can't move the paste around his mouth and I'm worried it's going to get stuck. So I stand and take the paste over to a sink on the other side of the room. I'm sure this stuff would taste nicer with milk than with water but then I remember that taste won't be an issue for Peeta anymore. I mix the paste with water so it becomes more like a soup and grab a straw from the table.

"Here," I place the straw to Peeta's lips. He instantly starts to drink and although it takes a few tries he's soon able to swallow with relative ease. It certainly is taking longer than what it would have taken under normal circumstances but I don't mind.

In less than ten minutes the paste/drink is two thirds finished. Peeta takes one last gulp and leans back. His cheeks have coloured slightly. He's starting to look better already, I feel hope starting to build in my stomach and swell up to my heart.

"Any more?" I ask. He shakes his head, I'm glad to see he's moving more. Amazing what a quarter of your daily allowance of fat, protein and energy can do for you. I dread to think what they'd been feeding him at the Capitol to make him this size. Probably hadn't been fed at all. I shudder at the thought and turn my attention back to Peeta. "Get some rest, you look beat,"

He slides himself down the bed – another sign of recovery which makes my heart inflate – but misjudges, ends up sliding a bit too far. A pillow falls onto his face with a light _thud _and I can't help but chuckle.

Or at least, I'm chuckling until he lifts his arms and swats at the pillow and I can see his chest moving at a faster rate.

"Crap!" I pull the pillow away from Peeta's face and he looks at me like I've just saved his life. Maybe in his tortured mind I have. "I'm sorry Peeta. Here, let me help,"

I grab the pillows and slide them under Peeta's head. He calms, his breathing slows and soon enough he's smiling at me until his eyes droop a final time and he's fast asleep. I make a quick mental note:

_Peeta doesn't like having his face covered. _They'd probably threatened to suffocate him more than once for information. Suffocation was probably one of a list of tortures he'd gone through. And when they couldn't think of any more ways to get the information they robbed him of his voice.

I'm startled when I hear a cough from behind me, I turn and Haymitch is stood with a guilty look on his face, he's holding a paper bag in one hand and the other is scratching his neck.

"Hey," he says gruffly. He looks so much older without his alcohol. I always thought the clean life would've helped him look a bit younger and healthier but it looks like the alcohol had been his life source and without it he's withering like a plant without water.

"Hi," I say back after hesitation.

"I, aah, I came to apologise," he says not quite meeting my eyes. "What I said... it was uncalled for, I'm sorry,"

Huh, no sarcasm, no extra snide comments. He must actually be sorry. I sigh, guessing it's my turn.

"I'm sorry too," it doesn't sound genuine, but I am sorry deep down. "I know you did all you could, and he's back now. So thanks Haymitch, he'd still be in the Capitol if it weren't for you,"

Haymitch shuffles his feet awkwardly then walks towards me opening the paper bag.

"I figured you wouldn't be leaving Dough boy for a while so I got you this," he takes out a tub of vegetable stew with a roll of bread. "Had to explain the situation to Coin first, she's going soft on you for now, but once he's better-" Haymitch pointed towards Peeta "- she'll be back to her old self,"

"I'd've gotten worried otherwise," we both smirk and I take the stew. "Thanks Haymitch,"

"Yeah, whatever," Haymitch has never been one for accepting gratitude so he quickly changes the subject. "So how's Dough boy holding up?"

"Since when did Dough boy become Peeta's new nickname?"

"Since I thought of it, he's a boy, he likes bread; Dough boy," Haymitch explained. "Now would you mind answering my question? This time without another question,"

I sigh. "He can barely move his arms he's so weak, and his tongue's gone, I'm not sure if they told you,"

"They told me the basics," Haymitch says quietly. "It's weird seeing him like this. He was so... solid before,"

"Yeah well, a couple months of torture and starvation'll do that to you," I say a bit too harshly. "Sorry, just ignore me,"

Haymitch chuckles, he's used to my outbursts by now. He's got a thick enough skin to not take me too seriously, sometimes that infuriated me, but right now it's exactly what I need.

We sit for hours making small talk. Haymitch had brought some cards along too, I like that he knew he wanted to stay with me but wouldn't have enough pleasant conversation to keep us from killing each other over the course of a couple hours. He teaches me a few simple games, me and Prim had never had cards growing up, wouldn't have had the time to use them even if we did.

We're halfway through a game called 'Black Jack' when Peeta starts to stir again. I'm at his side in a flash, Haymitch joins soon after.

"And so he returns," he jokes. Peeta smiles and starts to push himself to a sitting position. He manages halfway then I help him with the rest. _Progress _I keep telling myself, _this is progress._

Something seems to be troubling Peeta though, his forehead's wrinkled and his eyes are scanning the room.

"What's wrong Peeta?" I ask, worried he might be in pain. Medics came in a few times to check him but no one had given him any sort of pain medication.

He looks as though he's about to move but seems to think better of it and goes back to studying the room.

"You're in the Hospital, Peeta," I say, realising that this probably hasn't been explained to him yet, he'd been so tired the last time he'd woken up he probably wouldn't have been bothered about where he was. "We're in District Thirteen, you're being looked after,"

I expect to see a dawning of understanding in his eyes; instead those light blue irises just get rolled. He's mocking me!

"What? I was just telling you where you were, I figured you might appreciate the information," he's not even listening. Instead he's making this weird face at Haymitch and I can hear my mentor laughing behind me.

"I don't think he cares where he is," he laughs. "You needing to attend nature's calling Dough Boy?"

Peeta doesn't seem too fazed by his new nickname, he's nodding vigorously and I can't believe I hadn't picked up on this quicker. Everyone needs to pee at some point.

Haymitch laughs at the minor misunderstanding and then a question forms in all our minds, he's the one who finally voices it.

"How're we going to do this?"

There's silence until Peeta sighs then points to a wheelchair at the side of the room and then to me and Haymitch. One of us was going to have to take him.

"Well, it's nothing either of us hasn't seen before," says Haymitch, I'm surprised by how willing he is to take Peeta to the bathroom. "Toss a coin?"

"Off a cliff would be nice," I joke. Then realise the longer we take making the decision and prattling on the longer we're making Peeta wait. "Sure, I'll be heads?"

Haymitch takes a penny from his trouser pocket and flips it in the air. He stumbles to catch it then holds it out in front of him.

"Tails, sorry Dough boy. I'll take you to the bathroom and help you onto the seat if you want, but I'll be damned if I'm wiping!" Peeta chuckles and I realise this is the first time he's laughed. Maybe it's the first time he's had the energy, maybe it's the first time he's found something funny enough to laugh about.

I watch as Haymitch grabs Peeta and drops him pretty unceremoniously into a wheelchair. After all that Peeta's gone through you'd've thought Haymitch would be a bit gentler. But no one gets the special treatment from that man.

"See you in a few," Haymitch wheels Peeta out who raises an arm to say 'good bye'.

When they return Peeta looks like he's just run a marathon, his cheeks are flushed just from being out of bed and when he's 'helped' back into bed by Haymitch he looks ready for another power nap. But before he does he has a question for us.

Peeta points to his stump then looks at us. I glance round the room for his fake leg and Haymitch coughs awkwardly.

"Aah sorry kid, bit of a problem there," I look over at Haymitch, what does he mean? "The rescue crew were worried that the Capitol could've hidden something in your leg, y'know explosives or a tracking device, that sort of thing. We couldn't risk that, it was risk enough just saving you all. They left your leg back in the Capitol,"

"It's alright Peeta," I say. "Once you're a bit stronger we'll get you fitted for a new one,"

That awkward cough again. _Crap_.

"Sorry to burst your bubble Sweetheart," Haymitch says sounding like he's about to run out of the room away from the crazy girl who keeps trying to rip his eyes out. "District Thirteen's not as up to date on prosthetics as the Capitol, in fact they're not even as up to date as Twelve used to be,"

I look to Peeta, he's processing the information. He's in bed in a place he doesn't know, he's lost his family, his tongue and now he's lost his leg. He may have lost his real leg ages ago, but that he could cope with, the prosthetic did its job. Now though, he had nothing to replace it. So not only had the Capitol made him silent but Thirteen's paranoia had bound him to a wheelchair - or crutches at best - indefinitely.

It was no surprise to me when he turned his back on Haymitch and me and fell to sleep.

**Let's hear it for another chapter of angst! **I think we need to pick up the pace a bit now don't you? I want your thoughts as always, any new information on tongues? What do you think of Haymitch's new endearment for Peeta? I can make him drop it if you all think it's that awful, personally I can't quite decide if it's in Haymitch's character or not. And fear not Gale lovers! He'll be making an appearance soon enough... although I can't say Gale lovers will be too impressed with it. Aah, sorry guys! Perhaps this chapter should've been called 'Aah sorry', it's the only thing Haymitch seems to be saying.

Also a bit of shameless advertising! A fellow Author: The PTB's Red Fox who has given me some great advice and ideas in this fic has written her own, it's very good and therefore you should all read it!

Anyway, that's all for now folks! See you all next Tuesday.


	4. Progress

**You know when you have a great idea right before you go to bed, then think _I should write this down... nah, I'll remember it_.** Guess who spent half an hour racking her brains for that brilliant idea? I'm keeping a notepad next to my bed in future! Before we begin I must say a massive thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far, it certainly encourages me to write more! So thank you. Now enough from me, on with the legalities!

**Warnings: **Bad language: swearing and discriminatory. Oh and spoilers for the books, obviously...

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the Hunger Games would I be writing fanfiction? No I'd be on a beach somewhere relaxing, instead I'm sat writing this in lieu of revising for an exam!

_Chapter Four: Progress_

To say things had changed over the past four weeks was something of an understatement. Four weeks ago I'd been sat feeding Peeta through a straw with barely even the certainty that he'd survive the week. But now it was a completely different story.

After two days Peeta had gotten used to eating without his tongue, at first he'd needed to tilt his head to what looked like pretty uncomfortable angles but after practice he learnt to move the food with only minimal movements of his head. Within a week he was eating the enriched paste alongside oatmeal and broths. After two weeks his cheeks had filled out and his bones were covered with a soft layer of flesh rather than just pasty skin. These small progressions made me so happy. The day Peeta ate a whole meal, the day he pushed himself off the bed and into his new wheelchair without ending up in a pile on the floor.

And now Harker's signing some forms to allow him to leave the Hospital.

Haymitch has agreed to let Peeta live with him. He didn't have much choice really, either Peeta lived with him or I saw to it Haymitch got a much more annoying housemate. I actually wrote up a list of candidates. Flavius, Octavia and Venia were among those candidates. Suddenly Peeta didn't seem like such a bad option.

Our rooms are close so I can visit whenever I like, however Haymitch has warned us both that any disruptions to his sleep and relaxation times will be punishable by more missing body parts.

We thank Harker for all he's done and Peeta quickly arranges an appointment for next week. He's required to make weekly appointments until he's back to the weight he was before the Games, even though he's no longer emaciated he's still underweight so he's got a way to go to get back to his previous stocky build.

Then we're leaving the Hospital and making our way towards our timetabled activity. _10:00 – 12:00 Sign Language_.

Peeta and I had been puzzled when a plump forty-something woman approached us in the Hospital two weeks ago. I couldn't quite place her, but then there were plenty of people in Thirteen I'd never met before.

"I was wondering if you two could spare a minute," she said, we both nodded and she took a seat by Peeta's bed. "How are you feeling Mr. Mellark?"

Peeta grabbed a pen and paper from his bedside and wrote _Not bad thank you, yourself? _He then handed the paper over to the woman.

"I'm fine thank you. I see Thirteen isn't exactly spoiling you with reams of paper?" I laughed at the comment. It was true; Peeta was given one piece of paper a week to communicate with. It's not just food Coin likes to ration here. "That's actually partly the reason I'm here,"

Peeta raised his eyebrows then took back the paper and quickly wrote _You know where I can get more paper?_ Honestly, it was like a covert operation, you'd think we were asking her for a Morphling hook-up. She chuckled and shook her head.

"I'm afraid Coin has that sort of thing under lock and key, even I can't access something that valuable,"

"Are you from the labs?" I asked hopefully but she quickly shook her head again. We knew there were a few handheld devices which could be typed on and would even read out what had been written. We had asked Harker if it would be possible to acquire one but he told us that he'd already asked. Coin would never allow Peeta to use one; there were too many other pieces of technology on them to allow a clumsy baker to just carry one around in case he wanted a chat. That had been her argument and nothing could have changed her mind.

"No, I should probably introduce myself before I go any further," she said. "My name is Thim, I'm originally from District Eight and I'm here to offer you something more... practical than that piece of paper,"

Peeta raised his eyebrows and straightened himself up in bed. He was interested but if I'm honest I was a bit sceptical of what she had to say. We'd never met this woman before, for all I knew she was a shyster, what she was hoping to scam out of us I have no idea, but this is war, people do desperate things for next to nothing.

Taking Peeta's body language as a clear sign of enthusiasm, Thim continued.

"I'm not sure if you are at all familiar with Sign Language," she said. Both of us shook our heads, I wondered if it was some language people without tongues had come up with, it didn't sound fantastic. I'd heard Peeta try to talk a couple times, still not completely used to the fact that his tongue was gone. He would always stop halfway through a garbled word, drop his head and blush furiously. If that's what this new language was all about there was no way he'd want to take part. "I didn't think so, not many of the Districts have much need for it, but I've been teaching signing for nearly twenty years in Eight, or I had been,"

I decided not to interrupt, part of me wanted to see where this was going purely to find out more about this woman, there was something about her that screamed 'More than meets the eye'.

"You're probably aware that Eight is... was renowned for textiles," it seemed hard for her to refer to her old District in the past tense, but then, it was hard for many, I'd been lucky enough to get my family out safe, there'd been so many who had come here alone. "Well those who worked with the heavy machinery often suffered the same fate, after only a handful of years without protective equipment most ended up being a little hard-of-hearing. Some who stayed longer lost their hearing altogether.

"I'd grown up with a mother and father who would constantly shout to understand each other and an older brother – Nial - who'd never been an academic, went into the factories when he started school, stopped going to school two years later and worked full time at the factory. He never learnt to read or write and when he lost his hearing a year later he was lost to the world. The only way he could communicate was through pointing and the only way we could communicate back was with more pointing.

"Then I found a book in our school library, it was old, falling to pieces in fact. But it was filled with pictures, hundreds and hundreds of them; all of three alternating people. In each picture one of the people would be in a different pose, their hands were slightly different and a corresponding word would be underneath along with a picture that symbolised the word. I can still remember the first word I tried," she held both hands horizontally in front of her face then moved them outwards in a fluid motion. "'Cat'. I realised that I held in my hands a key to communicating with Nial again. Sign Language."

I had to admit I was impressed, a way of communicating with your hands alone, I was instantly imagining the benefits it would have in hunting, but then my thoughts drifted to Gale. I felt incredibly guilty about not even thanking him weeks after the rescue mission so I tuned out the thoughts and went back to listening to Thim.

"I've taught more workers than I can remember, it's not an easy language, it can't be learnt in a few weeks, but surely it's got to be better than waiting for a new piece of paper every Monday,"

She was right, Peeta looked like New Years had come early and I was convinced she was a good person.

Peeta started writing on his paper, a lot larger text than he normally used, obviously bored of trying to conserve paper now a new lifeline had been offered. He handed the paper to Thim and I glanced over too, I don't think he minded, he told me everything anyway.

I smiled when I read what he'd put and so did Thim:

_When can we start?_

So from then on we were given one two hour session every day, they'd started off in the Hospital but once Peeta got better we started using a small classroom two floors up.

We both enter the room today and everyone's already there, we had told them we'd be a bit running a bit late because of Peeta's discharge, Thim doesn't look like she's bothered. She's a very laid back teacher, apparently we're the easiest class she's ever taught because everyone can hear.

It's not just me and Peeta anymore, we've had a few additions. They'd actually been Peeta's idea in the first place.

Pollux and Castor are sat next to each other practising finger spelling by the looks of things; Pollux had been the first to be invited along by Peeta and when Castor had said he thought it was a good idea Peeta invited him too.

There's two more Avoxes; Graeme's a lanky guy in his twenties with big glasses and what I'm guessing is meant to be a stylish bit of hair on his chin. Personally I think it looks odd, I'd begged Peeta to shave his off the minute I thought he had the strength, he'd obliged, told me he was tired of getting food stuck in it. The other Avox is called Tulsi, she's about Thim's age. I wonder if that's the reason she only really seems to talk to Thim. I can't blame her for not treating this as a social event, she was unfortunate enough to lose her means of communication, she's just here to get that back, ironically by not acknowledging the rest of us.

Then there's Annie and Finnick. I couldn't understand why when I told Finnick about the Sign Language classes he practically begged Thim to take him and Annie on. Turns out the two of them were bored out of their minds. Both kept under close supervision; Finnick's outburst when he'd been reunited with Annie had made Coin decide he was too damaged to train for now and the two are still kept under close obs in the Hospital. But she'd allowed them to join this class, called it part of their _therapy_.

Turns out Annie actually has a knack for this sort of thing, she can flourish her hands and pick up vocab and grammar much quicker than the rest of us. Finnick once told me he was having to keep up because she was starting to favour Sign Language over spoken English. I asked him if he thought that was a good thing or not, surely it was a way of withdrawing but he instantly disagreed.

"She's never been much of a talker," he had said. "Signing has made her able to express herself better than she ever could have with words,"

I never questioned him any further.

We sit next to Annie and Finnick and greet them by waving once and they give us the same greeting. Thim encourages as much signing and as little speech as we can manage.

'_How are you?' _Peeta signs to both of them. He's much more fluid with his hands than I am, I suppose it's a bit like painting for him. That and I know he practices a lot more than I do, not on new words, just getting the ones we both know absolutely perfect.

Normally we practice together after lunch but today my schedule has changed. I knew it was going to happen as soon as Peeta was discharged but it doesn't mean I want to bunk off _13:00 – Training _any less.

The two hour lesson goes by far too quickly for my liking, before I know it we're touching our chins with one hand and pulling away as a way of thanking Thim then heading down to lunch. Peeta's chatting to Pollux and Castor so I push his chair for him, from what I can tell they're discussing sports, we've just started to cover basics: running, ball games, lifting weights. Annie's signing way too fast for me to recognise what she's saying, a lot of the flourishes she's using are foreign to me and Finnick looks like he's struggling to keep up. I look away before I get a headache.

We're nearly at the elevator when I see him. Gale's talking to Beetee in hushed tones and I can't help but think they're planning something I'm not going to like. He'd just returned from Two last week and from what I've heard it went okay. They managed to take over the main building which sounded like something of a feat, if rumours were true it was inside a mountain. But I also heard there were fatalities, enemy ones but still lots of them.

I decide to keep going but as Beetee walks away Gale catches my eye and I know I can't hide from him forever.

Peeta's noticed that I've stopped and turns in his seat, he sees Gale and then taps me on my arm, indicating he has something to 'say'.

'_Go talk to him,' _he signs. _'I'll... hold you a seat,' _Sometimes we'd need a word that we didn't know and would have to make do with anything similar. Any we didn't know got jotted down on Peeta's paper and asked the next day.

'_**Okay,' **_I sign and say, I prefer using both, otherwise my words get muddled. _**'See you later,'**_

I turn and walk over to Gale.

"Hi," I say and wave, then realise instantly that isn't the correct tactic to use, ah well.

"I don't need you to use those... _hand movements _with me," Gale says. So it's going to go like this.

"Gale I only waved and if you're going to be like that I'll just go," I say, my hands are clenched already. Did he always infuriate me this much? Maybe it's just because I've been away from him for a while. Become too used to being around Peeta.

"Wait," Gale sighs. "Sorry, had a rough day and it's only 12, I shouldn't be taking it out on you."

"You're damn right," I smile. "Look, I just came to say thanks, I never got to tell you how much I appreciate what you did for Peeta and Annie and everyone else,"

"Yeah well, I couldn't exactly not do it could I?" He shrugs. I smile, I know that's his way of saying he did it for me. "Sorry about how he's turned out,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snap back, not smiling anymore. I know I'm being overly hostile but I can't hold it back, I've been waiting for someone to say something about Peeta. I wish it wasn't Gale.

"Well, y'know," he said scratching his head. "I mean I feel sorry for the guy, must suck to know you're going to need a Carer for the rest of your life,"

"Who said anything about a Carer?" I ask, this is genuinely the first I've heard anything about it.

"That's what I've heard," Gale shrugs. "I mean the guy can't walk or talk, back in Twelve those sort of people got cared for by families, you remember Sae's granddaughter,"

"Peeta is nothing like Sae's granddaughter!" I'm shouting. "The only reason he can't walk is because _you _left his leg behind in the Capitol,"

"Oh come on Catnip, you're really going to pin that one on me?" I glare at him. "Fine, go. I was only trying to sympathise with the guy,"

"He doesn't need your sympathy!" I shout.

"Let me guess, one of these 'the world owes me nothing even though I'm a cripple' types now, is he?"

I'm pretty sure I can see red at this point.

"What did you just call him?" Gale looks guilty already.

"I didn't mean to say that," he says. "It's just a word I've always been brought up with you know?"

"So that makes it okay does it?"

"Look Katniss, it's just a word!"

"Just a word? Gale, don't you remember when we were younger and all the Town kids would make fun of the Seam kids? You used to hate it, they were _just words_,"

"That was different!" says Gale.

"How? How was that different Gale?" I stare into his eyes, we both just look at each other for a few seconds, the corridor's silent.

"You know what Katniss? Whatever! I said a lot nicer than what I've heard other people saying about you and your little friends. Go on back to Peeta and those other two loons," I know he's talking about Finnick and Annie. "But don't come crying to me when people start treating you like you're one of them,"

I feel slightly sick. _One of them_? He's making it sound like I'm joining a cult.

"You know what Gale?" I keep my voice level; I don't want him to have the satisfaction of me shouting at him anymore, knowing he's upset me. "I don't care if I get treated like Peeta or Annie or Finnick because it's already happened. We've all been treated like freaks and I've got the wristband to prove it. And maybe we are what people say we are, but I'd much rather be a freak than end up like you,"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Gale's stood over me now, glaring down.

"Oh you know exactly what I mean," I say. "Don't act like I don't see what you're doing. Setting up traps for innocent people, making them die to scare the Capitol, but you're no better than they are with the Hunger Games. Showing off your power just because you can, you're turning into everything you despise,"

"You take that back," I bark out a laugh.

"Take what back? The part about me knowing what you're up to, or the part about you being no better than Snow?"

I expect some consequence for this remark so I'm not overly surprised when Gale's hand collides with the side of my face. What does surprise me is a blur shooting past me seconds later that pins Gale to the ground.

**Ladies and Gentlemen, Gale Hawthorne! **What a real champ, sorry any Gale lovers out there but there had to be an antagonist and I thought who better than the angry guy that gets cousin-zoned. Right a couple of tidbits of info about this chapter. First all the signs I describe – badly - are from BSL and Makaton, so if there's any variations in ASL or any other forms I'm sorry but I'm sticking with what I know. Also, I decided to get Annie and Finnick involved – mainly Annie – because of what I've come across in real life, some people I've worked with could speak perfectly well but would insist on using signing techniques generally because of anxiety when speaking. One last thing, originally Katniss was going to hit Gale at the end of this chapter but this ending worked better.

So there we have it folks. Sorry to anyone who likes Gale, I can't say I dislike him, I just think he and Katniss are too grumpy to be in a relationship together. Gadge all the way! Gotta love a bit of Peeniss and Gadge... That sounds quite unpleasant. These Author Notes are going to have to come with their own warnings soon.

Before I go I just want to inform you all that any member who reviews from now on will receive a sneak preview of the next chapter, I apologise in advance to any anonymous reviewers, if you really want the preview you can leave me your email address (WITH SPACES) in the review and I'll send it over. Previews will be sent out between Wednesday and Friday depending on whether or not I can get to a computer. If you review after Friday I will do my best to get the preview to you as soon as I can. Right, that's all for now, take care folks!


	5. Fire

**And we're at chapter five!** I've been happily writing free from real storyline but I think we need a bit of action now, right? Obviously bits are going to be tweaked, what am I saying tweaked? Let's mess this story UP! I must also say a MAHOOSIVE THANK YOU to everyone who has taken the time to review, you're all fantastic and I hope I can keep you interested enough to continue reading and reviewing.

**Warnings: **Spoilers, bad language, angst. All the good stuff really!

**Disclaimer: **I own the Hunger Games books! That's right, I own all three of them. Just not the original copies, or the original story or any of the proceeds that came from that...

_Chapter Five: Fire_

"You keep your hands off her!" I'm astonished by what I'm seeing. At first I thought a guard had taken Gale down, violence amongst Thirteen citizens is not acceptable, particularly not violence by men against women, which I personally find ridiculous. If you're going to punch someone you should punch them, not worry about whether or not they're the same sex. But I think that's just the Seam mentality.

But it's not a guard, it's Finnick. He's grabbing Gale's shirt and he's only about an inch from his face.

"Finnick, it's fine just let him go," I say rubbing the side of my face. Peeta's by my side a second later asking if I'm okay, his hands are shaking, I can't decide if it's because he's worried about me or if he's angry. "Honestly, I've had worse. Let's just go to lunch,"

But Finnick's not budging.

"You just hit a woman," the tone of Finnick's voice genuinely terrifies me. "You disgusting excuse for a human being,"

Annie walks past me and looking over in the direction of the elevators I see that no one even made it up to the dinner halls; they'd all been keeping an eye out. Castor and Pollux look ready to jump in if things get any messier too.

Annie puts a hand on Finnick's shoulder and once he's turned she signs in her usual fast fluent motion. I pick up '_Go_', '_Finnick_' and '_Bad_' but there's so much more that I miss. Whatever she signed has had the desired effect though. Finnick shoves Gale back down by his collar then rises to his feet, entwines his fingers with Annie and walks back to us.

"Are you okay Katniss?" he asks, his face is so tense.

"I'm fine honestly, I've had much worse than that," I shrug. "But thanks Finnick, I owe you one,"

"You owe me nothing for that," Finnick says curtly. I worry about his mental health, is he going to relapse? But then his face softens and he gives a small smile. "Should probably keep that quiet if we can, last thing I need is getting more drugs for my _unstable behaviour_,"

And just like that we're heading off to lunch, the incident with Gale at the back of our minds. Well, most of our minds.

Peeta's fussing over me all through lunch which starts to grind after the first five '_are you okay?_'

'_**Peeta,**_' I say as he reaches to touch the side of my face again. '_**I'm fine, stop touching my face,**_'

He instantly drops his hand and blushes. He signs a quick '_Sorry,_' and focuses on his food.

The rest of our lunch passes in awkward silence, Peeta doesn't try to stir up any of his usual conversations and no one else seems too interested in being the one to start one. I know I'm definitely not.

It's 12:55 when I finally get to my feet to leave, though. No matter how awkward it is at the table, it's nothing compared to where I'm about to go. _13:00 - __Training_. Eurgh.

"I'll see you all later," I sigh. They all either mumble a goodbye or, in Pollux and Peeta's cases, wave.

Then I make my way to the elevator while casually listing which members of District Thirteen I want to punch in the face: Coin and Gale are fighting for the top spot.

I know I have to pay back my debts to Coin, she'd authorised the rescue mission and she sure wasn't going to let me forget about it. And although I didn't like it, I'd been given an offer. Coin had requested to speak to me a couple days ago.

"So nice of you to come, Everdeen," she had said as I entered a slightly cramped, nondescript room. She was sat behind a desk, there was a chair pulled up in front of her for me. At first I wondered why we were in a room so small with no one else around. Then it dawned on me, Coin had called me in for a reason, and I wasn't going to like that reason. She was expecting a fight, and not one she was sure she could win. _Excellent_.

I didn't answer, I just grabbed the chair and flung myself onto it. Then there was a silence that I eventually had to break.

"This had better be good," I said. "I had to cut Signing short for this,"

"Hmph," she wasn't impressed by my apparent lack of interest. "As you're probably aware, the capture of District Two was a success,"

"If you count dozens possibly hundreds of fatalities a success," I butted in.

"Everdeen, be quiet," she said. "As I was saying, logistics aside, the capture of District Two was a success,"

I debated rolling my eyes but instead just allowed her to continue.

"I'm sure even you can understand what this means," I didn't like her wording but yes, I did understand what that meant. "Just the Capitol left,"

Yep, I'd been waiting for that little chat. I was the Mockingjay after all.

I let her say her piece, uninterrupted. She looked so smug when I didn't question her, thinking I was just going to roll over and follow her orders. She was even more narrow minded than I'd thought possible.

"You're our Mockingjay, Everdeen," Coin leaned forward. "You give the Districts hope, you strike fear in the hearts of the Capitol supporters, the Capitolists they're starting to call themselves. Those who would die to protect Snow's rule, those who would rather see destruction of innocent human life than destruction of their comfortable lifestyles. Those," she kept her eyes upon my own when she next spoke, "who stole Mellark's tongue,"

She thought she had me there. Just throw in a little speech that included Peeta's struggles and that would have me baying for blood instantly, how little she actually knew. I was already angry at the Capitol for what they had done to Peeta. I didn't need her to help me with that. But did that mean I would walk mindlessly into war? No.

My Father had taught me a saying once and it had echoed in my mind these past few weeks; 'Fighting fire with fire'. As a child I had always found it to be an odd saying. Why would you use fire to combat fire? It would just make a bigger fire after all; surely you'd just use water. Growing up I learnt it actually meant to use the same tactics as your enemy. But in this war I realised that my views as a child – although simplistic – were not wrong.

The Capitol killed some of ours so we killed some of theirs. It didn't solve anything; it just made the death tolls rise and rise.

And Coin wanted me to be the Mockingjay that fanned those flames with her wings, spurring on not just the Rebels but the Capitolists who wanted to destroy me. I gave the Districts a face of defiance. I gave the Capitol a face for their 'Wanted' posters.

We needed another solution. We needed water.

"So you want me on your front line," I said. Coin nodded. "Let me guess, leading the troops into battle in my pretty suit while an army of cameramen follow us?"

"Oh there'll be no need for cameras when the big day comes," _Eurgh!_ She made it sound like a Wedding. "But yes Everdeen, we will require you on the front line in the end, leading our troops to victory in your _pretty suit_,"

"Forget it, Coin," I said, it felt great. "I don't want any more unnecessary deaths and that's what you're proposing. Marching your Soldiers through the Capitol is just begging for a bloodbath on all sides, our troops will be under threat and so will hundreds of innocents,"

"_Innocents_?" Coin laughed. "Is that what you call those fools who sit in the lap of luxury taking pleasure in watching the children of the less fortunate suffer?"

"You cannot murder these people because of their ignorance!" Coin had been right to place us in that room; I'm pretty sure from the heaviness of the door behind me that it was sound proof. I briefly toyed with the idea of strangling her but I had no doubt in my mind she had the place bugged and probably had several weapons concealed on her person. "There has to be another way,"

"Oh if you come up with one I'd be more than happy to hear it," she said. "As it is, unless Snow suddenly has a remarkable change of heart I would say that our only real option is to fight,"

We were silent for a few seconds and then I rose to my feet. Crossed the room and grabbed the door handle.

It was locked. _Great_.

"Oh I'm not finished Everdeen," I sighed and turned, Coin was holding a key in one hand and a gun in the other. The gun didn't frighten me, I knew she'd only use it if I turned violent and I wasn't that desperate. I took my seat again and gestured for her to continue. "As I was saying our only real option at this point is to fight. It's not a bad option either, our forces are stronger than they've ever been and we'll be ready in a matter of weeks. But we'll be more ready with your _support_."

"And I've already said, I'm not being a part of this, find someone to be my stunt double or something, but there's no way you're getting me out there. It's not right,"

"I see the Mellark boy's worked his pacifistic magic," Coin tutted. "You'd think he'd be a bit less persuasive without his tongue but here you are, spouting the words that he no longer can,"

"It's not just Peeta,"

"Really? You seemed pretty happy with blowing Capitolists out of the sky in Eight,"

"That was defence!"

"And so is this," Coin hissed. "This is a defence of our freedom Everdeen, much more important than any Hospital. But who am I kidding? I knew you'd need more persuasion than this,"

I smiled, the penny had dropped, she wasn't going to get me to cooperate.

Or so I had thought.

"Here's the deal Everdeen," she said with an even voice. "You agreed to be the Mockingjay on the compromise of a few rules: that cat got to stay, you got some hunting time and we kept your other tributes safe and sound."

I didn't like where this was going.

"Now I'm sure the hunting privileges won't bother you too much, from what I hear you've been too busy to speak with Hawthorne recently," she said. "And the cat can be replaced I'm sure. But what about Mellark? And not only him; Mason and Cresta seem to be recovering too, wouldn't it be a shame if all their progress was for nothing? If they were all to meet... unfortunate circumstances?"

I stared at Coin, processing what she had just said. She wasn't threatening me personally; she knew that would never work. She was using strategies I had always known her to be capable of. For Peeta, Johanna and Annie's lives I had to comply with everything she said. I was like some enslaved Puppet, Coin was the Puppet Master and my friends were my strings. If I didn't work the way the Puppet Master wanted me to, those strings would be cut and I would be cast aside.

"So, how does being the Mockingjay sound now?" her tone was cruel and I felt like I was going to attack her from how unjust this was. She hadn't called me into the sound proof empty room because she thought she could lose the argument, she knew she'd win. She just didn't want other people seeing her threaten the Mockingjay with the lives of other citizens in Thirteen.

She saw the resignation in my eyes and smiled that awful smile.

"Your Training begins later this week Soldier Everdeen," she informed me. "You will have four weeks before the final battle. Make us proud of our Mockingjay,"

She handed me the key and as I walked out the door I finished her last sentence in my head. _Make us proud of our Mockingjay as she goes up in flames_.

And that is why I now walk begrudgingly to Training even though I know it's going to be awful. I'm expected above ground for running this afternoon, but that I can deal with. I'm used to running miles, I'm a little rusty from my time in Thirteen but I'll be back to running rings around the rest of the Soldiers in a matter of days.

Except I know there's one Soldier I'll never run faster than, one I'll never be stronger than or better at stealth combat. Gale was not only going to anger me with his presence but he was going to show me up as well. _Great_.

I rise above the ground and all the other Soldiers have arrived, they look a lot more serious about being here than I do. They're almost all Thirteen natives with a handful from other Districts. I stand near the back, I may be here under the threat of my friends' deaths but that doesn't mean I have to be enthusiastic about it.

I scan the faces and recognise a few vaguely. But only vaguely. And then it hits me, Gale's not in this Training team. _Yes__!_ It's about as much of a consolation as I'm going to get and I'm actually sort of happy to be here now. It'll just give me some time to run about and burn off some energy. I'm ready to run, thoughts of the future war are not in my mind.

"Attention!" there's a shout behind us and everyone stands ramrod straight, well, I straighten up a bit, they should be thankful for that. "About turn!"

Everyone turns in a uniform fashion and I have to scramble around, obviously our Trainers have arrived.

The man who shouted out those orders is a squat man with a stomach almost as wide as he is tall. I've only seen a few people of his girth and all had been from the Capitol, no one from the Districts could hope to maintain a figure like that. He must either be new to Thirteen or have a good technique at stealing extra food without Coin minding.

The man next to him is his polar opposite; tall, broad shouldered, not much older than me. My stomach drops, I knew Coin wouldn't have allowed me to enjoy these sessions.

"Good afternoon, Soldiers!" the tall Trainer shouts. And everyone but me shouts back the same greeting.

"Good afternoon, Commander Hawthorne!"

**That's all for now folks! **Have I made Coin enough of an evil witch for everybody? Good. And there's plenty more angst where that came from! A few bits and pieces about the fic: the new term Capitolists is not my own personal dig at Capitalism, I'm a Socialist but I do think our society needs some of the aspects of Capitalism to make it work. This chapter took a while to write, I wasn't quite sure how to write it (and honestly the ending was a last-minute idea) and the title was originally Soldier. I don't know why I'm making a point of one word titles; I may have to break tradition soon. Also writing chapters with more than one tense messes with my mind so sorry for any mistakes of tense.

Once again information, praise, and constructive criticism are all welcomed. Flames and spam may be kept just to make my fic look more popular than it is. Either way any member who reviews will receive a preview of Chapter Six, non-members can receive one through email if you want. See you all next Tuesday!


	6. Reliance

**Chapter Six already folks! **I say already, it's already as I write this because I'm weeks ahead but you get the idea. Are you all ready for a bit of Peeta angst? I know I am! But before we begin as always I have to say a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, any feedback is always appreciated!

**Warnings: **A fair bit of angst and Gale, so expect the sort of language some people would get smacked for using these days. I say some people, I mean the 'some people' who use the terms around me.

**Disclaimer: **I am but a poor student, not a multi-millionaire author with the last name of Collins.

_Chapter Six: Reliance  
_

I _hate _Gale Hawthorne.

That was what ran through my head along with a lot of swear words as I slogged around the track with the other Soldiers. He'd made us run for hours, those who wanted to take breaks were more than welcome but had to stay longer to complete the course; he wasn't bothered how far we ran, just as long as we did it for exactly two hours and fifteen minutes.

At first I expected him to ignore me as only Gale can when he's in a mood. But within the first ten minutes he'd called me out in front of the other Soldiers.

"Soldier Everdeen!" he had barked. "You need to work harder than that if you want to survive more than half an hour in the Capitol!"

The first few pieces of abuse I simply ignored but that apparently wasn't what Gale had wanted and so he came out with this gem:

"Soldier Everdeen! I've seen spastics run in a straighter line than you!" _Just keep running_, I told myself. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue? Speaking of spastics and tongues-"

And then I'm calling him every name under the sun and trying to gauge his eyes out. Looking back I think I favour that form of assault a bit too much.

He has me on the ground in under ten seconds, my right arm is pinned behind my back and he's applying pressure that's enough to make my eyes water.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Gale called out. "It seems Soldier Everdeen is trying to interrupt your Training, by way of apology anyone with extra time will now have those minutes doubled!"

There were groans from almost all the other Soldiers and as I got to my feet I could feel them glaring at me. The day wasn't really going well. After that I just let Gale carry on with his insults, after ten minutes of non-stop abuse he moved onto someone else.

It's past six when I finish. Dinner has already been served and I can't face anyone right now. I'm covered in mud and the smell of sweat is starting to make me feel disgusted with myself.

I take a shower for longer than what is usually allowed but I think I earned it. Then I slip into another Thirteen uniform and make my way to the one place I've been dying to visit since this day began.

Peeta answers the door and I'm a bit taken aback to see him stood up. I look down at the floor expecting to see a new foot but there's nothing there, he's just bent his leg slightly like someone who's about to start hopping. He leans against the door frame and raises his hands.

'_I thought you were Haymitch,_'

'_**Hello to you too,' **_I reply sarcastically.

'_Sorry,' _he quickly signs. _'Want to come in?'_

'_**Yes please,' **_I walk through the door and Peeta hops over to his bed. _**'You're not using your wheelchair?'**_

'_Not in my room, too slow,' _Peeta shrugs. He's looking at the ground, something's bothering him.

'_**What's wrong?' **_I ask.

'_You weren't at Dinner,' _I know this isn't what's bothering him but I don't push; I didn't come here for an argument. We move over to his bunk and sit down next to each other, there's an unnatural space between us that I don't like.

'_**No,' **_I say simply. _**'I was Training,'**_

Peeta doesn't sign anything. Instead he reaches over to his bedside cabinet and takes out some of his magic paste.

'_Eat this,'_he places it in my hand along with a spoon.

I don't even bother to ask if he's sure about it. He's already eaten, and besides, the paste is just a stand-by now.

It doesn't take long for me to finish, for something so small it's pretty filling.

'_**Thanks,' **_I smile and Peeta finally meets my eyes. He's smiling but it's not one that I'm used to, it seems forced. _**'I forgot this stuff tastes good,' **_suddenly what I just said dawns on me. _**'Err, sorry,'**_

'_Why?' _Peeta looks puzzled.

'_**Talking about taste,' **_I scratch my head awkwardly. This time Peeta smiles properly and shakes his head. _**'What?'**_

'_I can taste,' _he signs back. I stare at him like he's just grown a second head and he grabs his mainly clean sheet of paper. _'Can't sign this,'_ I nod and watch as he writes:

_Taste is actually influenced more by our sense of smell than our taste buds; you should try eating the crap in the food hall one day while holding your nose. Harker told me about 75 percent of our taste comes from our nose._

"Oh," Well, that's a bonus.

'_You enjoy Training?' _Peeta asks, our moods are a bit lighter now but I still groan. _'Bad?'_

'_**Yeah," **_I sigh. _**'Gale's the... teacher,'**_

Peeta bristles and I realise what he's unhappy about.

'_**Don't listen to Gale, Peeta,' **_I shuffle closer and place a hand on his shoulder. There are so many things I want to blurt out but I can't, not like this. _**'There are loads of things I want to say, but I don't know how to sign,'**_

'_Don't sign,' _Peeta offers. _'Talking is easier, and you're upset, talk now, sign later,'_

"Thanks," I feel under much less pressure just by not having to translate everything I say into complicated hand movements. I know Thim said it will be easier if we all used Signing alongside spoken English but sometimes I want to just sit on my hands and say what I _want_ to say. Not what I know I _can_ say. "What happened this morning... It should never have happened,"

Peeta nods in agreement.

'_You're right,' _he signs. _'I wanted to be the one to stop Gale, not Finnick,'_

"That's not what I meant!" I scowl. "He shouldn't have called you what he did and I should have left when I could see him getting upset,"

'_He hit you. I... I...' _he throws up his hands in frustration then rakes his fingers though his hair, he's breathing loudly. He always breathes loudly when he's upset about something. He looks like he's about to scream, I place a hand on one of his arms and wait while his breathing becomes more even.

We wait in silence for a few more seconds then Peeta grabs his notepad and starts writing quickly.

_I should never have let that happen. I should have been there by your side; I should have fought my own battles. And when he hit you, it should have been _me _pinning him to the ground, not Finnick._

I look at his face, he's staring intently at the notepad and not at me but I can see what he's hiding. Tears are in his eyes.

_I feel so useless like this Katniss, I miss being able to walk and talk. I'm glad we've got Signing and I know I've just got to keep practising but I can't help thinking if there's any point. I'm always going to be reliant on someone to translate for me_

It's quiet for a minute.

What am I supposed to say to that? As far as I'd been concerned Peeta was learning Sign Language and that was going to be the end to our problems. It only dawns on me now that less than ten people are learning it here. For a guy who had, had the ability to talk to whole crowds with ease this is torture.

"I didn't realise you felt that way," I say quietly. He doesn't respond and I rethink my answer. "You know, you're not the only one who's reliant,"

He quirks his eyebrows and I notice his eyes shift in my direction.

"When you were captured I... well I wasn't in the best of shapes," I remove my hand from Peeta's arm and play with my braid as I talk. I'm looking at the floor and suddenly the words are tumbling from my mouth. "I couldn't believe you were gone, it felt like you'd died in the arena, I'd almost given up hope if I'm honest.

"Then a few weeks later there you were looking healthy as ever on the TV, I know now it had been recorded just after your capture but at the time I'd been so happy to see you alive and well. You spurred me on Peeta, I felt like I could take on the Capitol then and there, we shot some Propos for the Rebels, I actually left Thirteen to help in the other Districts. It was great. It almost felt like I had you back.

"I got injured in Eight and while I was in the Hospital you came on the TV. You'd been tortured; anyone with a brain could see that. You were shaking like a leaf and you were a lot smaller than before, but I didn't let it get to me too much, you were still alive and I could still fight for you,

"And then your third show came up and I heard you getting beaten to a pulp by the guards for saving hundreds of lives," my hands are shaking almost too much to play with my hair now. Peeta takes them in his own; they're warm and familiar if not a bit bonier than I remember. "Has anyone ever thanked you for that? Because that should've been the first thing Coin did when you got back. Without you we'd all be dead by now.

"Everyone in this District was reliant on you then, and... I'm still reliant on you now; I can function like a human being when you're here. So you shouldn't worry about relying on someone to translate for you because I rely on you just to be there for me and..." I trail off, I don't really know where I'm going with this and when I look up Peeta's a lot closer than I remember him being before and he's leaning in and so am I and-

"Finnick's in the ITR," _Wait, what?_

We both snap out of it and stare at Haymitch who's stood in the doorway looking more than a little angry.

"Sorry for spoiling the moment folks,"

We're in the Hospital, Annie's sobbing on her bed with her knees drawn up to her chin. No one will let us in to see Finnick so we sit by her bedside.

He went missing shortly after lunch when we all went our separate ways. Annie had gone to use the bathroom and when she returned he'd disappeared. Two hours later he was found down a seldom used corridor unconscious with several empty Morphling needles near his body.

The door to the ITR opens and a man in a Doctor's uniform walks over to our group. His face is scarred, his hair is cut close to his head and he's got that sharpness in his eyes that makes him look more like a Soldier than a Doctor.

"Mr Odair's condition is stable for now," he's addressing me as he speaks, possibly because I'm the nearest. "It has been concluded that, taking into account his current mental state, this was a suicide attempt,"

I want to argue but Haymitch speaks over me.

"Thank you, Doctor," he says almost politely. The Doctor turns and leaves the Hospital, apparently his shift is over.

"Don't tell me you buy that!" I corner Haymitch and he shakes his head.

"Of course I don't," Haymitch says. "The guy was found with six empty needles around him-" Annie moans softly. "-he'd be out of it after two, there's no way he could've injected them all."

"So why-"

"That guy wasn't a Doctor," Haymitch explains before I can even fully ask the question. "He'll have been some dressed up Soldier,"

"But-"

"Seriously Sweetheart, keep interrupting me and I'll leave you to figure it all out yourself," Haymitch snaps at me. We're all looking at him for the answers now, even Annie. "I heard about what happened between you and Hawthorne; he came complaining to Coin straight after it happened. Then they both went off to discuss it alone so I don't know the details but I can make a pretty well educated guess.

"Violence can't be tolerated between citizens," says Haymitch.

'_Gale hit Katniss,' _Peeta signs before Haymitch can tell him to shut up. Haymitch doesn't know much Sign Language but he can pick up what Peeta has just signed.

"Between _citizens_, Doughboy; Hawthorne is a Commander, authority and immunity are very similar words in Coin's mind," Haymitch explains. "Finnick's an easy target, already got a history of mental breakdown, an easy enough alibi for the majority who ask questions. Yes, I know it's about as see through as a window Sweetheart, save your breath. Coin didn't think we'd actually believe it, this is a threat. We hurt her precious Commanders; she'll hurt us a lot worse.

"What I want to know," there's something that sounds almost like accusation in Haymitch's voice. "Is why Finnick got upset enough to attack a Commander like that? He must've known the risks,"

Annie looks up at this point, I think she's going to say something but instead her hands start to move. Peeta's watching intently, next to Annie he's the best at signing. She stops after a while and brings her arms back round her legs, rests her eyes on her knees and continues to sob.

"Anyone willing to offer up a translation?" Haymitch asks. Luckily Peeta had had the sense to bring his paper and pen just in case. He writes something down then quickly hands it to Annie, she scans it and nods, what has been written is true. Peeta then passes it around.

_I didn't catch it all, Annie's pretty fast. But she said that Finnick used to know a lot of women who got beaten by men, it made him sad that he couldn't do anything about it. He felt like that was his own way of helping._

I know exactly what women she was referring to, the ones who had taken Finnick's 'services'. Wives of rich Capitol men who probably had little else to do with their time. The women finally had Finnick who could make them feel special, they'd tell him everything and then he had to carry round the knowledge that these women were being beaten by the men they were meant to love. Something like Gale hitting me would've been just the trigger he needed to act.

"So why make it look like a suicide attempt?" I ask. "I mean just an accident like tripping onto a knife or something, I'm sure they could still make it pretty obvious to us that they were behind it,"

"I've got a couple theories," says Haymitch scratching his chin. "The first is pretty straight-forward but I don't think it's Coin's reasoning: they don't want Thirteen to look like it's an unsafe place to live, have you noticed how there's almost no accidents here? The majority of injuries come from over-zealous Soldiers in Training, not from people tripping on uneven surfaces or things falling on them. But like I said, I don't think that was Coin's thought process.

"The more likely option is that Coin feels threatened by you all, by your defiance. I mean, Finnick put a Commander on his back, in Coin's mind that's about as defiant as you can get. There's not many ways to stop people noticing stuff like that, you two-" he points to me and Peeta. "-should be more aware of this than anyone. But Coin has different ideas to Snow about how to deal with... _undesirables_. Snow tries to keep his people under control with force; Coin doesn't work that way though. She changes the undesirables, not the people who may follow,"

"So you're saying she's trying to change Finnick?" I ask.

"Yes and no," Haymitch replies. "She's not changing Finnick per se, she's changing other people's perceptions of him; making up stories about him. Attacking a Commander is very serious and rarely brought on without reason. If they'd have left it at that people would have started to ask questions, even Thirteen citizens have a bit of intuition. But if they then find out that a few hours later he was trying to overdose they're going to go back to believing what they had thought before, that Finnick's not in his right mind, and think nothing more of fighting back against the system."

"I hit Gale today in Training," I say. "You think I'm going to end up like-"

"No," says Haymitch. "No, you're safe for now. I think Coin's got bigger plans for you, Sweetheart,"

**Hmm, not sure what to make of this chapter. **It wasn't particularly easy to write, if the whole thing about Finnick was hard to follow I apologise, I know what I want to say but can't tell if I've made it a bit too long-winded and cryptic, sorry if I have.

A quick note on the Sign language, when writing what Peeta and the others are signing it's not a literal translation, Sign language has different grammar to spoken English but I decided it would be a lot easier to follow if I just wrote the spoken English equivalent.

Anyway, let me know what you think. Any reviewers get a preview of Chapter Seven as always. See you next week!


	7. Trapped

**Chapter Numero Seven! **Not got a whole lot to say right now I'm afraid apart from a big thank you as always to my fantastic reviewers, you're all great. Right, on with the legalities!

**Warnings: **Contains general angst and spoilers for the books just like every other chapter. This chapter also contains some graphic violence, if anyone is uncomfortable with this message me and I can send you an abridged version with just a brief explanation of one part of the chapter.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hunger Games, they belong to Suzanne Collins whose name I always misspell.

_Chapter Seven: Trapped_

Finnick's finally moved back into his old hospital bed after a couple days in the ITR, he says he can't remember anything past going to lunch, then the next thing he knew he was getting treated for life-threatening levels of Morphling in his bloodstream. He's definitely not at risk of death any more but he's not completely recovered, not by a long shot.

The Morphling's affected his coordination and concentration. He's finding it difficult to take part in Signing which has been moved back into the Hospital for his sake. His attention keeps being drawn to other things around the room and when he finally manages to learn a new sign he takes longer to form the correct movements with his hands.

We've asked Harker about this and he's reassured us that although it'll take a while, Finnick will recover; we just have to be patient.

Finnick's now handcuffed to his bed, the cuffs are long enough to move his arms around but not long enough for him to leave the bed without a member of staff unlocking him. He's been classified as 'High risk' by the 'Doctor' that first spoke to us when Finnick was in the ITR. His name is Andreon Golding, he's still making his rounds every evening, every time he speaks to Finnick he writes the same thing in his notes: _States his mental health is improving; not the case. Still High risk._

It's frustrating but we all know that if we argue we'll be ignored, and if we take it higher Coin'll just cause more damage.

Me and Peeta are making our way to lunch. He's no longer in his wheelchair, the continuous visits to the Hospital have meant he had managed to sweet 'talk' Harker into giving him a pair of crutches. He's back to the correct weight for his height so Harker agreed he was strong enough to use them. I can't stop thinking it's not long until he'll be back to proper Peeta-size.

I have to do most of the conversation because Peeta can't sign and use his crutches at the same time.

'_**Go to Training for me,' **_I groan, checking my watch. Peeta chuckles and shakes his head. _**'Thanks Peeta, and you call yourself my friend,' **_

An awkward silence follows. That last statement came out a bit awkward. We haven't discussed our near-kiss at all. A few times I've thought about bringing it up but we've been busy. Well okay, _I've_ been busy but still, it has made it way too difficult to broach the subject, I know we'll have the conversation soon enough.

Peeta's been quieter ever since that day, he looks like he's not been sleeping right too and I'm worried that he's fretting over it too much. I make a promise to myself that I'll talk to him after Training.

Lunch passes too quickly as it always does, Peeta makes his way back to his dorm, and I set off for my new training room.

We're starting on weapons today; Gale has finally decided we're all capable of running which is nice to know. I'd personally always counted it as a bonus in an army.

I enter the room and as usual I'm the last one there bar Gale and the fat man, Commander Moya. Moya takes a back seat in almost everything, I think he's just there to keep an eye out for any stragglers and then directs them to Gale.

They both enter a couple minutes later and we're all made to stand to attention.

"Just three weeks until the big day, everyone," says Gale. So it's not just Coin who's thinking of this as more of a social event than a blood bath. "We've trained with regular weapons enough, those of you who didn't attend Training when it was being covered will have to learn in your own time or on the battlefield,"

I know that was directed at me, not that I mind. Gale and I both know I can handle a gun and a bow better than any of the Soldiers here.

"So today we start on President Coin's new regime," I already don't like the sound of this. Gale crosses the room to a locked chest that I hadn't noticed before. He unlocks it and takes out a small disc, smaller than my thumb. It's silver and Gale's holding it very carefully. "Follow me,"

We all do, he takes us down a corridor to a room just big enough for us all to line up. There's a window which looks on into a room of what initially look like a pile of dull carpets. But then one of the carpets starts to rise and fall, Gale taps loudly on the glass and then I see what the carpets actually are.

Mutts.

They're definitely crossed with humans, a couple get up and examine where the noise came from, apparently we're behind a two-way mirror.

"These were taken from the Capitol," Gale gestures to the Muttations. Their bodies are wrapped in a thick looking material which is what I'd mistaken for carpets earlier. Their faces are longer than regular human faces, their mouths and noses are much closer to their chins which are covered in a thick tuft of hair. I look down at their feet and see that they aren't wearing shoes like I'd assumed, because they don't have feet. They have hooves, and the final appendage I spot is on their heads; a pair of horns. I think back to Lady and it dawns on me.

They've been crossed with goats.

There's what looks like a steel drawer under the window. Gale opens it then picks a small pin out of the side of the disk; it starts to float of its own accord moments before Gale shoves it in the drawer and shuts it.

The drawer opens at the other side, the same disk is now hovering in the centre of the Mutt room. The Mutts are looking at it, puzzled, and so are we.

Then the disk works its magic.

A deep purple mist seeps out of the bottom and lands on the Mutts. The effects are almost instant.

They start to scratch themselves as though they have a rash. But after about five seconds the scratching gives way to screams which sound half way between a cry and a bleat. Soon enough they're all scratching themselves raw on their faces and arms.

The first one to die is a male Mutt with a black beard. He scratches so hard at his neck that he tears straight through the skin and through his jugular; he bleeds out on the floor, none of his fellow Mutts even notice.

Another scratches through her wrist so efficiently that I see her tendons and bones before she too collapses to the floor in her own blood and the blood of the other Mutts.

We stand and watch as all eight of the Mutts slowly destroy themselves. The last to die is definitely the one that gets me the most.

A male Mutt with a grey beard, the human was obviously an old man when he died. He pulled his eyes from their sockets and started to scratch the insides, when that wasn't enough he started to slam his head on the metal flooring, after six horrific blows his head had caved at the front, the horns weren't enough to protect him. He lies limp at first, then his whole body is thrown into spasm for over a minute – no doubt from the brain injury he's just sustained – and finally he goes limp once more. Dead.

I look around, most of the Soldiers are slightly paler than usual but they don't seem to be as bothered as I thought they would have been.

"Radican bombs," Gale takes out another disk and hands it around the room like it's show and tell. "They release a spore from a plant which when placed into contact with the skin creates a feeling of irritation, the bombs also contain the same hallucinogenic chemicals found in Tracker Jacker venom, this increases the intensity of the spore. Makes it so intense that ninety-eight percent of victims kill themselves within twenty minutes,"

"And what about the other two percent?" someone asks, they sound a bit too interested to me.

"They kill themselves within thirty minutes," Gale answers.

I know as soon as he says the plant's name that this is an invention of Gale's. I remember being the one to teach him about the plant that those spores came from. They're horrible to touch, I think about how I'd scratched my arm raw once when I was young after falling on a cluster of leaves in the woods. The thought of having the feeling over the entirety of my body and at a much higher intensity makes my stomach churn.

The bomb is passed to me and I survey it with the same look I've been using every time I've seen Gale this past week.

When I look up I see him looking directly at me, he knew that this would get to me. The thought that I've inadvertently given him a new way to kill our enemies, and not just kill, this is a new way to maim and torture in one of the most horrific ways I can think of.

I definitely preferred running around the field.

We spend the rest of the session going over how to detonate the bomb, where it's to be used and what we should do in case of accidental detonation. But by the end I only have a vague idea about any of these things. I've not been concentrating, preferring to stand and stew and go back to calling Gale every name under the sun in my head.

The end of Training can't come quick enough and I rush to Dinner, this is the first day in over a week where I don't have to depend on Peeta's magic paste offerings. I'm determined to enjoy this regardless of whatever slop I'm given.

When I arrive at the Dinner Hall I scan the room for people I know, I see Prim sat with a few others around her age. Our Mother must still be on duty, they usually sit together when they're both here.

I debate going to see her – I haven't spoken properly with my sister since Peeta first arrived and I'm feeling guilty – but she's with her friends, we can talk later. The last thing she needs is her possibly mad older sister cramping her style.

The only other person I can see is Haymitch; he's sat on his own eating a pale green curry with all the table manners of a starved pig.

So I grab my own portion of green slop and sit down next to him.

"Where's everyone else?" I ask. He brings his face up from his plate; some food has dripped into his stubble. _Nice_.

"Oh hi Haymitch, how are you today?" he says sarcastically, I roll my eyes knowing he doesn't really care about how I greet him. "Pollux and Castor are at Training, Annie and Finnick still haven't been let out of the Hospital,"

"And Peeta?"

"Wow, I was trying to figure how long it'd take you to bring him up, I thought you'd last at least five seconds, Sweetheart. Didn't even miss a beat," Haymitch chuckles and I shoot him a look. "Okay, okay. He said he was tired and he was going to go for a nap... at least I think that's what he said..."

I smile, Haymitch can't attend the Sign classes because of his preoccupations with Coin, but he's doing as well as can be expected with just the few gestures he picks up from Peeta and I.

Peeta doesn't nap very often but then I think about how he's been looking recently; he's had plenty to think about and I'm pretty sure Haymitch's snoring won't have been helping matters either.

I finish off the curry which turns out to be better than expected.

Haymitch tells me that Peeta had finished his meal and made his way for his nap ten minutes before I arrived. That means he's had about forty minutes for his nap. I decide that's more than enough time to sleep in the afternoon.

I say goodbye to Haymitch, who has a whole afternoon with Coin and other officials to look forward to, and walk down to Peeta's room.

I knock but receive no answer. I consider leaving Peeta to rest a bit more but realise that there's nothing else for me to do. Apart from maybe visit Finnick and Annie in the Hospital. But Peeta is usually there with me, conversation is always strained when he leaves to use the bathroom.

At that moment I realise three things.

The first is that every aspects of my life involves Peeta in some way, my spare time is spent mainly with Peeta, I'm in Training because of Peeta and like Haymitch had pointed out, my thoughts generally drift towards Peeta.

The second realisation is that I need to tell him how I feel, that almost-kiss keeps playing over in my mind. I can't stand feeling like this, so damned dependent on him but at the same time I know he needs to know this. And I know I need him to know this... which barely even makes sense in my head, but then, a lot of things don't these days.

The third realisation is slightly less profound. I realise that a guy with no tongue is better at holding a conversation with our friends than I am.

With all these things in mind I open the door and step in ready to shout him awake.

But I don't shout because when I see Peeta I know immediately that something's wrong.

I know from sharing a bed with Peeta on several occasions that he never moves in his sleep. Whatever position he falls asleep in he wakes up in.

But that's not the case this time; his hands are scratching at the sheets and there's a sheen of sweat on his face. He looks like he's in pain.

"Peeta?" I move quietly over to his bedside.

He cries out. His teeth are still clenched and so he makes a noise halfway between a growl and a scream, his voice is thicker than it was before his tongue was removed.

"Peeta, wake up!" I grab his arms and shake him. But he doesn't wake; he's trapped in his nightmare.

Then his hands rise to his mouth, the fingers of his right hand snake inside and within seconds he's screaming louder than ever. His fingers are scraping across the bottom of his mouth and I know I have to act fast or he's going to do damage to himself.

I grab his right arm and yank as hard as I can. He doesn't budge. Time for more dramatic action.

I slap him across the face so hard it makes my hand sting. I'm pretty sure my Mother once told me not to wake sleepwalkers and I wonder if this is a similar rule but anything has to be better than Peeta scratching his mouth raw.

It's quite effective; his eyes open as soon as I pull my hand away. But it's all too much, the nightmare, the pain that's no doubt in his mouth and the stinging sensation that will be radiating across his cheek. He takes his hand from his mouth, brings both arms across his face and begins to sob.

Normally I'd be out the door if something like this happened. But before I can even think about it I'm in bed with Peeta holding him close to my chest, stroking his hair and making calm 'shushing' sounds that my Father used to make when either me or Prim hurt ourselves.

"It's okay Peeta," I say quietly, his sobs have died down and he's holding me round my waist. "You just had a nightmare, it's over now," I feel his head move in a nod against me. "Just let me know when you want to talk about it,"

He doesn't move his arms; obviously he's not up for signing right now. I don't mind, we just continue to hold each other.

I don't know how much time passes before we eventually sit up in bed but I know it's been a while. Peeta's eyes are still bloodshot but dry; at least he's stopped crying.

I reach over for his notepad and pen which his eyes have shifted to a couple of times; he takes them from me, signs a quick '_Thank you_' then begins to write.

_Sorry _That's all he puts to start with.

"You've got nothing to be sorry about," I say firmly, I've got his left hand in my own and I give it a squeeze. He nods and continues to write.

_I was dreaming about the Doctors in the Capitol _he pauses for a moment, I think he's choosing his words. _The ones that cut out my tongue._

I stay quiet, this is the first time – that I know of – that Peeta has ever spoken about his amputation. I watch as he continues to write.

_They were pinning me down, telling me I shouldn't have said what I had. Then a guy in a white coat came in with a weird little blade. _His handwriting is shaky and I see him working on steadying his breath. I squeeze his hand again hoping it comes across as reassuring. _They didn't give me anything for the pain and then they stitched me up before I could bleed out. It hurt so much and in the dream you were having the same thing done to you. I can take my own memories, I have been having nightmares about it but nothing worse than before I was captured. But ever since you got hit my dreams have involved you getting your tongue removed. And that's when these night terrors started._

"So you've been screaming like that every night?" I say, I'm shocked and a bit angry. "Why didn't Haymitch tell me about this?"

_I told him not to. He can't exactly say no, he _owes _me, remember? _I groan when I read his writing.

"Then you should have told me," I snap and instantly regret it because I can feel him flinch. "Sorry, but you should,"

_I know. But everything with Finnick and your Training, I never found time to tell you, I'm sorry you had to find out like this Katniss. _We're both quiet for a moment then he begins to write again. _In the Capitol, after they cut out my tongue they just left me alone in my room. Didn't come in to check on me at all, not to see about my tongue, not to give me food, nothing. I was pretty sure I was going to die there. When the Rescue Team broke in and released that gas I thought that was it, I was sure that was my time. You know what the last thing I thought of was?_

"What?" I ask. He doesn't have to write the next part, he just points to me. Something inside me swells with happiness but I can't think what to say in response.

He places the notepad by his side and lifts his hands. He points to himself, then places both hands over his chest then points to me. I remember Thim teaching us this but I'd never used it, it was more for Finnick and Annie's benefit than anyone else's.

I bring my hands up and repeat Peeta's words.

'_**And I love you,'**_

**That's all for now folks! **Well I couldn't put too much Peeta angst in, had to give the guy some fluff in the end. The name Radican comes from the proper name for poison Ivy, or at least part of the name, but I decided to shorten it to make it sound cooler than long-winded Latin.

This chapter took quite a while to write but hey, it was sunny, I enjoyed it while it lasted! There were a lot of things I wanted to put in this chapter but they'll have to wait until next time, I think it finished best there. Anyway, review for a preview and I'll see you all next Tuesday! BYE!


	8. Plan

**Chapter eight folks! **I'm currently writing this chapter alongside another fic I'm working on for when this bad boy's finished. But fear not! This fic is still my number one priority for now. This chapter's going to be a bit less of an angst-fest and a bit more plot-filled, so enjoy!

**Warnings: **Implied adult situations (oh my!)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hunger Games, mm'kay?

_Chapter Eight: Plan_

The next few days pass well, better than well actually.

That first night Peeta and I stayed in each other's arms. We talked, signed and wrote into the early hours of the morning. Haymitch poked his head in the room at around nine-thirty when he finished his talks with Coin but had the good grace to inform us that he would be spending the night with an old acquaintance a few floors down. We all knew that was a complete lie, Haymitch just didn't want to spend the night with two gushy teenagers. Peeta and I wished him a good night anyway.

Peeta asked me why I'd started going to Training, we'd never spoken about it before, either he'd not thought about it or had not wanted to ask. I told him I had to train for the final battle and then he asked me something I'd been dreading. Why did I want to fight?

I had to tell Peeta everything about Coin, about how she'd threatened me with his life. I fight or he dies. Peeta was mortified at first, looked like he was going to go hunt down Coin, but when I told him about her changing her mind if a better solution came along he calmed. He had something to focus on, something to figure out. How was he going to keep me out of battle?

I decided to distract him that night; the last thing I wanted to think about was Coin. So I did the one thing I knew would get his attention. I kissed him.

It was... different to say the least. Kissing someone without a tongue is fine if you only want a quick peck, but real kisses? It took a bit of getting used to.

As soon as my tongue was in his mouth I couldn't help but trace across where his tongue should have been. It was squishy and I could feel ridges that were no doubt scars. Part of me – the part that would force me to run whenever my Mother had accepted a new patient at home – was shouting at me to retreat. But since I got Peeta back that part of my mind had taken a back seat; I was stronger now, I could cope with this. It was just different.

Peeta certainly wasn't deterred; he continued to kiss me to the best of his abilities and glided his fingers across my cheeks in intricate patterns to make up for the lack of his tongue. Soon enough we settled into our own way of kissing, our own unique way of showing our affection for one another. It was different, but that didn't stop it from being good.

We both fell asleep with our clothes on but I was more prepared the next day, I moved my night clothes from my old room to Peeta's and promised Prim and my Mother that I'd still stay in our room on weekends. I remember this was the way the older kids in Twelve used to move in together, spending the weekdays with their new partners and weekends with their families, at least for the first couple of months.

Peeta doesn't seems to be suffering as much from his night terrors now, he doesn't sleep soundly – neither of us do – but we both wake at each other's cries and hold one another until the nightmares pass. Peeta jokes that it's just like being back on the train, only with less travel sickness.

Haymitch has moved out, says he doesn't want to impose. Johanna had a room to herself and so offered it out to Haymitch until she can find a better roommate. I don't see much of her, but by all accounts she was getting bored living on her own, Haymitch seemed like a better option than a random refugee from one of the Districts.

I continue going to Signing and Training. I'm feeling more confident with my signs and although the weapons we're being shown in Training are still horrific I'm pretty sure the Radican bombs were Gale's big shock tactic for me.

On the third day of semi-moving in with Peeta I meet him for Dinner and he seems in a better mood than usual. He's sat with Pollux and Castor.

I sit down next to him and give him a quick peck on the cheek which he quickly returns.

'_**Hey!' **_Castor chastises. _**'No kissing at the table, we're eating,' **_

We all chuckle and chat about little things like how we think Signing is going. After Dinner Castor and Pollux go to visit Annie and Finnick while Peeta and I make our way back to his- _our_ room. He told me he wanted a word after we'd finished eating.

We sit on the single bed we share. Peeta raises his arms.

'_I have a plan to stop you fighting,' _he starts. _'It's not great, but it could work,'_

He takes me through his plan and he's right, it's not great. I have no idea if it can be pulled off, but if anyone can make it work, Peeta can. But he needs help. Specifically _my_ help. We run through the entire plan from start to finish, I've got a lot to do.

'_Do you trust me?' _he asks when we finish working through the finer details. I kiss him lightly on his lips.

'_**With my life,'**_

My first step is simple enough: talk to my old Propo crew.

"Cressida!" I greet my old Director with much more enthusiasm than I'd normally use in a day.

"Oh, Katniss how nice of you to drop by..." she looks like she's about to go to bed but it's only just eight. She's wearing a silk gown that just screams Capitol chic. "Listen, can this wait? I'm just about to have an early night,"

Huh, weird. Normally a bit of well-placed excitement and Cressida's as easy to mould as softened clay. She looks on edge. Time to up my game I suppose, I put on what I hope is a winning smile and push my way past her into her room. She whips round and quickly shuts the door.

"I promise it'll only take a moment," I say. "Just a quick favour and I'll be out of your hair and you can get your beauty sleep, not that someone like you _needs _any beauty sleep,"

I'm surprised I haven't thrown up yet, but I know this level of flattery is necessary. And I see Cressida's face soften a bit.

"Okay," she sighs. "But please, make it quick,"

"With pleasure," I smile. "I need you and the rest of our old Propo crew to get back together at some point in the next two and a half weeks, do you think that'll be possible?"

"Absolutely not," she frowns. "Coin has told us no more Propos, they're no longer necessary and they're wasting resources,"

"What?" to be fair I can see Coin's point, the Propos might look good and put people in high spirits but there are better things to power than cameras and sound equipment.

"I don't like it anymore than you Katniss, but that's the way it is, Coin won't budge for a Director, I'm nothing to her," I sigh knowing it's true. So much for the first step being easy, the rest of the plan is going to have to be put on hold until we can find a solution. Maybe steal some recording equipment, wherever that is. "Now if there's nothing else you wanted to say,"

"No, there wasn't, thank you for your time Cressida," I make my way towards the door wondering why she's in such a rush to get rid of me. I'm about to let myself out when the door slams open and I have a split second to jump out of view. Years of hunting has taught me to always know my hiding spots.

I have no weapons so if this is a considerable threat my only option will be to make a run for it. Has Coin already discovered our plan and decided she doesn't like it? Has she sent someone to teach me a lesson? I can't let them hurt Cressida, she's innocent! Annoying yes, but still, innocent!

I almost jump straight into action but before I do I recognise the person who's just barged in unannounced.

It's Plutarch.

He closes the door, completely oblivious to me being here, then crosses the room and pulls Cressida close. He moves fast because the next thing I know he has his tongue down Cressida's throat – she hasn't had time to respond - and his right hand is travelling down her-

"Does Coin know you're here Plutarch?" I ask from my corner. He whips around instantly, his face drained of all colour.

Well this has to be the most awkward moment of my life.

"W-What are you doing here, Everdeen?" he eventually splutters out.

"I was here to speak to Cressida," I say plainly. "And you... weren't?"

Plutarch coughs into his hand and straightens up.

"We would both appreciate it if you kept this little incident quiet," he says. I know what that means. This hasn't been Coin approved; she's probably had every high-ranking individual off relationships from the start. They're just something else to distract their attention away from the Rebellion.

I see my opportunity and grab it with both hands.

"And what's in it for me?" I raise my eyebrows. Plutarch and Cressida look to each other then back to me. "Plutarch, I require one last Propo in the next two weeks. You're close enough to Coin to get clearance for it,"

Plutarch considers this for a moment then finally sighs in defeat.

"You saw nothing here,"

"Of course not, and Cressida" I peer over Plutarch's shoulder. "If you'd pass the message onto Messalla for me about the Propo I can have a chat with Castor and Pollux."

I don't see whether or not Cressida agrees to this, I've turned and am out the door in seconds. If the next step of the plan ends up like this I'm going to need therapy.

I start my next task the next day after Training, I don't bother going to Dinner – Peeta has promised to acquire some magic paste when he goes to see Finnick and Annie while I'm at Training – instead I head straight down to Special Weaponry.

"Hello Katniss," Beetee's happy to see me and I'm quite happy to see him, especially since he's alone. He's typing away at three different computers. I don't know how he keeps himself on track with each one. "How're you doing?"

"Fine thanks Beetee," I say. "How's everything here? Looks like they're keeping you busy,"

"Oh yes," Beetee smiles, not taking his eyes off the screens. "Plenty to be getting on with. Although much of this is simple theory, you know, keeping systems in check, looking over firearm blue prints, no real challenges,"

It sounds like more than a challenge. It sounds painful.

"Great," I say unconvincingly, Beetee doesn't mind though. He knows not everyone shares his love of all things intellectual. "Listen Beetee, I need a favour,"

"Go on," he says whilst still typing away.

"I was wondering about the old Propos we used to make. You know how you hacked into the Capitol broadcasts, do you think you could do it again?" I ask. This is risky, Beetee could refuse to do it, or be unable to do it for any number of reasons. And if he can't do this the whole plan will have been for nothing.

He stops typing and turns to face me. He then pushes his glasses up his nose and interlaces his fingers.

"Now that," he says "is a challenge."

I can see from his smile – and that slightly mad look in his eyes – that he can do this. Nothing else has to be said on the matter. I thank him and wish him luck then walk back to begin my third task. The last task I have to undertake alone.

I meet Plutarch as he's walking out of Command, as soon as his eyes first set on me his face turns pink and I have to stop myself from laughing.

"Everdeen," he nods. I greet him in a similar way; he pretends to check his watch as I walk past him. Then after a few seconds I hear him following me.

I slip into a side room and he joins me shortly after.

"I've secured some filming time for you with Coin, told her that we decided it would raise morale before the big day," Plutarch explains. "You've got an hour in the forest outside Thirteen, it's two days before we take the Capitol. Good luck,"

"Thanks Plutarch, just one more thing," I see him cringe and it makes me happy inside, he knows he can't refuse me anything right now. "Just one more favour I'd like you to ask Coin, I want to go hunting tomorrow instead of Training, solo. I'll wear any tracking device she wants to fit me with and I'll bring back some Game, but I need some fresh air, I'm sure you can arrange that for me?"

Plutarch doesn't look happy about this but he nods all the same, we then leave the room without another word to each other.

The next day I check my arm and Plutarch has stayed true to his word. _13:00-14:00 – Hunting_

I make my way up to the elevators at 12:50, eager to get out into the fresh air and even more eager to complete my task.

When I arrive at the top a Soldier is there to strap a tracking device to my ankle.

"You've got one hour," she tells me. "Anything more and Coin has given strict instructions to not let you back in,"

"Yeah," I say, bored with the threats now.

I walk into the forest and quickly set half a dozen snares, that'll be enough to take back after an hour's hunting, no one'll care.

I then scour my hunting ground for as many berries as I can find. I've brought twenty pouches with me; each is colour-coded to the berry I need to find.

Within forty minutes I've filled each pouch with the corresponding colour, the forest is a natural hotbed for the things.

I check my snares; each has trapped a rabbit bar one which is holding a very plump looking turkey.

I make it back to the elevator with five minutes to spare. The Soldier takes my Game and doesn't bother checking to see if I've hidden anything on my person. I clearly haven't shoved a turkey down my top and I don't think they care about the pouches of berries now neatly tucked inside my belt out of view.

When I get back to our room Peeta grabs me and I'm pretty sure he'd have swung me round if he had a second leg. Instead he lets me take out the berries and he places them in his drawer then covers them with his uniform hiding them from immediate view. Once drawn the pouches are airtight (a little something I picked up from Special Weaponry when visiting Beetee) and the berries won't go bad for several months.

But we don't need months.

We just need a couple weeks.

**Wow. **I'm amazed at how quickly I wrote this chapter, I know it's just a quick plot-buster but I did this in a matter of hours. Get in! There's not much I have to say about this chapter, I do like embarrassing Plutarch though!

I'll see you all next Tuesday! As always reviews mean previews!


	9. Action

**Not long left folks! **Only a few chapters left everyone, I must say I've loved writing this from day one. So let's get this show on the road, eh? Before that though, I want to say a great big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited and placed this fic on alert. You're all fantastic people!

**Warnings: **Angst, do you really expect anything else from me? Oh and very mild language.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hunger Games and probably never will.

_Chapter Nine: Action_

For the next week and a half Peeta and I work almost tirelessly. Every day we keep to the same routine: get up, go to Signing, learn as much as we possibly can, I train, Peeta practices signing, I come back, we eat then we practice for the rest of the evening. It might've been tedious if it weren't for the facts that I was doing the majority of the activities with Peeta and that all this revision could mean preventing an impending war.

It's the evening before the big day, not the one that Coin and her Commanders have been harping on about. The big day for Peeta and I entails being out in the middle of a forest with just a small camera crew as company.

We're going over some last minute signs. Some are much more complicated to pull off than others but I don't think it will matter how precise Peeta is, I'll be translating and I doubt any of our target audience are going to know what Sign Language is. But Peeta has to be there, it's his plan and he's always been better with an audience than me.

There's a knock at the door and Peeta rises to answer it. It'll probably just be Haymitch checking it's safe to come in, a running joke that he thinks me and Peeta are constantly up to no good because of our age.

It's not Haymitch though, it's Plutarch.

"I... ah, hello Peeta. Is Katniss in here?" Plutarch sounds uncomfortable talking to Peeta, probably worried about not being able to make the small talk he so often favours. Peeta simply nods and lets him inside. "Good evening, Everdeen,"

Part of me is annoyed at how differently he addresses me to Peeta but he looks concerned about something so I decide to let it slide this time.

"Evening Plutarch," I say. "Is there a problem?"

"Coin has just spoken to me about tomorrow's Propo shoot," he says nervously, I know I'm not going to like the next words that come out of his mouth. "It's still on; however she has made one request,"

"Go on," I nearly snap. I want to know our problem so I can deal with it as quickly as possible. We don't have much time left.

"She is demanding you take a Commander along for security reasons," I nod and tell him he's excused. Plutarch doesn't look interested in staying to chat about what I think to this; probably glad I haven't attacked him for being the bearer of bad news. When he lets himself out I swear loudly.

Peeta doesn't look much happier than I feel. We both know that this Commander isn't coming with us for our own safety; they're coming with to make sure we don't film anything that Coin wouldn't approve of. This could put all our plans to waste.

'_I think I can guess which Commander will be with us,' _Peeta signs. I nod, knowing exactly who he means.

Sure enough the next day when Peeta and I meet Castor, Pollux, Cressida and Messalla at the elevator that will be taking us above ground the last person to join our group is one of the last people I want to see. Gale.

He doesn't say anything; he just follows silently as we enter the elevator.

I decide to just pretend he's not there but it's difficult when Peeta keeps shooting him angered looks.

In the elevator Peeta leans his elbows on his crutches and starts to sign.

_'Think we can lose Hawthorne in the woods?' _he smiles. I laugh and I can see Pollux and Castor smirking out of the corner of my eye.

"All signs must be translated," it's the first words Gale says. His gaze is on Peeta. "Understood?" Peeta nods and Gale looks to me. "Well?"

"Well, what?" I ask.

"Refusal to translate will result in termination of the Propo shoot," he says plainly. "Wouldn't want that, would we?"

I glare at him. What happened to my best friend? The one who could make me feel safe out in the woods and laugh about stupid things? How had he changed so much into something I hated? I know he's always wanted to rebel against the Capitol, but I didn't know that it meant more to him than his friendships.

I decide not to dwell on this too much, we used to be friends and now we're not. It's just as simple as that.

"Fine," I say. "Peeta was just saying that he hopes that today the odds are in our favour,"

Gale watches my eyes for a moment then seems to be content that I'm telling the truth. I don't think I can cover for many more snide comments though so I shoot Peeta a quick look that screams 'shut up'.

We reach the top and file out of the elevator. Pollux and Castor are both dressed in their camera suits already. Cressida looks uncomfortable, I haven't told her what the script is, I'm just relying on her and Messalla to find the best place for lighting and sound so the Propo can be as good a quality as we can manage.

"We have a small area marked out about a quarter mile north from here," says Cressida. "It should provide enough natural light at this time of day without being overbearing."

Messalla takes out a compass and leads the way. We're at the spot in less than fifteen minutes. Thankfully our time only starts when our filming begins, we'll have an hour to say what we need to say and then half an hour to return to Thirteen.

Pollux and Castor take their places as does Peeta; he's brought a satchel with him. There's a flask of water that's visible. Or at least, that's what the guards who let us through believed it to be.

"Right," Cressida claps her hands together. "Everdeen, get in the shot please,"

I move next to Peeta and smile at him, he returns the same smile.

_**'Ready?' **_I ask.

_'Ready,' _he replies.

"Okay, we are rolling in three, two, one," Cressida gives a thumbs up as red lights flash on Castor and Pollux's suits.

Peeta raises his arms and as his hands start to move I translate in time with his signs.

"Hello Capitol citizens," I start. My throat's completely dry and I wish that the flask in Peeta's satchel actually contained water. "I'm sure you all recognise us, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, Victors of the 74th Hunger Games, Survivors of the third Quarter Quell,"

Gale watches on silently, there's no emotion on his face.

"That is how you knew us, now some of you may know us as the enemy while many of you are probably unsure what we are," my voice is becoming a bit stronger now. "This message is for those of you who have not yet decided."

Peeta opens up his satchel and takes out the flask. He opens it up and takes out the rolled up paper that he saved from last week. I then undo my belt and lay it on the ground, on the inside all the packets of berries are hanging.

Peeta lowers himself to the ground and uses his crutches to hold the top and bottom of his paper down. He looks up to Castor's camera and quickly signs, I know I'm out of camera shot but I can still translate.

"I dedicate this work to the Avoxes of the Capitol,"

And with that he lowers his head and sets to work.

The berries have been crushed to pastes which Peeta is using as paint across his thin canvas, his fingers are his brush. One pouch holds water to clean his hands every now and again.

It doesn't matter how rudimentary his tools are, his work is as good as it would be with brushes and easels.

It takes him fifteen minutes to complete. Part of me worries the length of time taken will put people off but I remember that this is Peeta, the one Panem fell in love with overnight. No one in their right mind is going to turn off their TV set just because it's taking a while.

The picture is of the bottom half of a face; everything from below the nose to the jaw line has been painted in vivid detail. The skin's fair and clean shaven, the teeth are light and mostly straight. No one will be interested in these details though. The real interest lies inside the mouth.

Scars. No tongue, just a series of scars marking where gruesome injuries have been inflicted. It'll be enough to make half the population of the Capitol balk.

Peeta takes paste from the darkest berries and quickly writes across the bottom then holds the picture up in full view of the camera. The words read:

_Self Portrait._

_- P. Mellark_

He holds the picture for twenty seconds in complete silence. Everyone has to see this, it has to sink in.

Peeta then lays the picture on the ground and gets back up on his crutches. I start to translate the second half of his speech.

"District Thirteen now equals the size of the Capitol in population and weaponry, our leader President Coin is mounting an attack against the Capitol tomorrow. But this doesn't need to happen. If Thirteen attacks there will be casualties for both sides, innocent people will lose their lives. Most people don't want this, but President Snow is not concerned for your lives, he is only concerned about regaining the control he had before the Rebellion started.

"He will never be able to accomplish this now, he knows this and so do his followers but they're not going down easily, they're expecting a fight. But there is another way,"

Peeta leans over and plants a light kiss on my cheek, I can feel myself blush horrendously but that's not a bad thing. Let the cameras see my beet red face. Let Panem see it.

He then continues. I go back to translating.

"Everyone thinking of fighting is urged to put down your weapons and think about what you're actually fighting for, you're not fighting for yourselves or your family or even your home. Without the resources from the Districts your home will soon crumble anyway. The only person you are now fighting for is President Snow.

"This man has taken so much from so many. He has taken freedom from every citizen of Panem and he has taken the voices from hundreds, myself included. But these things can be taken back, without Snow we can rebuild Panem into something fairer and freer. We can regain our freedom and take back our voices. We just have to show Snow one thing.

"We just have to show Snow that he doesn't own us anymore,"

Peeta signs the last sentence and I translate dutifully. Any nerves that I'd had at the beginning are now gone.

"Thank you for listening,"

Cressida holds a thumb up and the lights on Castor and Pollux's camera suits dim.

"Well," says Cressida. "If Coin allows you to air that I'll be more than impressed. It's a shame it'll go to waste, such good lighting here. And the forest is still, I'd have to listen to a playback to be sure but I'll bet that the sound is as clear as a bell,"

"Actually," I'm surprised to hear Gale pipe up. "I think Coin will like this,"

We all stare at him. I'm waiting for the punch line.

"If we're taking on the Capitolists we don't want to be wasting time and ammo on civilians, with them out of the way Snow will be a sitting duck," he says.

Wow. Wasn't expecting this.

But he is right; probably pains him to say it but this is a good plan. Not amazing, but better than wiping out a civilisation for a handful of enemies.

"I can contact Beetee now and have him hack the Capitol network," Gale brings up the arm that holds his Communicuff. "The signal's not great here though, there's a clearing over there that I found once when I was training Soldiers, holds better reception,"

He starts to walk over to the clearing and something doesn't sit right with me. He's trying to get out of earshot to make this call and with all his dealings with Coin alarm bells are ringing out in my head. For all I know this could be a trap, he could be calling Coin to send out a crew to have us all 'removed', he could just be telling her that there's no way our Propo can be aired. Whatever he's about to do, I can't let him do it without a fight.

"I'll go with you," I say. Gale turns and assesses me for a moment, he doesn't say anything. "I'm doing you a favour, Hawthorne. You don't know what we could start talking about behind your back,"

"Oh I'm not worried about you all _talking_ behind my back," Gale shoots a look at Peeta who just rolls his eyes at the comment. "But if you're that desperate to check I actually call Beetee then come along, Everdeen,"

I'm a bit annoyed that he could see through my facade so easily but then I remind myself I've known him for a large portion of my life, he's bound to know my tells. And it was a pretty lousy lie.

I just nod and follow Gale across some overgrown weeds and small shrubs. They only rustle slightly as we make our way through, if it weren't for the events of these past weeks it'd just be like old times. Walking so quietly across terrain that should betray us on every footstep, and the trees are so much like the ones back on the outskirts of Twelve. But it's not old times; it never will be like old times again.

We finally come to the clearing and Gale walks straight to the centre, I follow with only the slightest niggle in the back of my mind that we're now quite a distance from the others. I chance a look back, there's a definite distance between us, but I can still see Peeta clearly. If I have to I can make it back to them in a few long strides.

We're silent for a while; Gale doesn't move to fiddle with his Communicuff which instantly gets my nerves on edge.

"Right," I say. "Call Beetee, let's get this over with. Wouldn't want to get locked out of Thirteen,"

"No," Gale says but he doesn't sound interested in what I have to say, he sounds like he's humouring me. "Beetee does need to be called,"

He still does nothing.

"Just do it already!" I hiss and he shoots me a look.

"Keep your voice low, Catnip," he says and I have all on not to cringe when he uses my old nickname. Like he still has the right to call me by that. He lost that right when he hit me. "I need to talk to you,"

I should've known. This was all a ploy to get me alone, he knew that I wouldn't let him make a call without being there to check he'd actually done it. And he must've scouted this spot out while we were filming, it's not too far away from the others to arouse suspicion. They're barely a stone's throw away really, but they're far enough away to not hear us if we keep our voices low. And the terrain we just passed means that Gale will be able to hear anyone who approaches.

"Well this is just a great time for a heart-to-heart," I snap, but I do keep my voice low just in case he has something planned for when I get too loud.

"Keep your hands in your pockets," he says. "I don't want you communicating with your friends over there,"

He really has been spending too much time with Coin. I slip my hands into my pockets and rock slightly on my heels, hoping I look natural.

"Thank you," he says, but there's no gratitude in his voice, he sounds like he's just won an argument. "I've got a deal for you, Catnip,"

"Stop calling me that," I say. "Otherwise I'll just leave,"

"Fine, just leave."

More silence, I know he's expecting me to stay here, to ask him what the deal is. Part of me screams to just turn around and never speak to him again. But there's another part of me, a part that's a lot less proud, that tells me to stay. Part of it's out of interest, but more of it's down to needing him to send the Propo.

"Just say what you're going to say," I fight the urge to fold my arms.

"That's more like it, Catnip," he smiles. "I've got a deal for you-"

"Oh goody," I'm ignored.

"That Propo is pretty risky," he continues. "It could work, but I'm sure Coin would worry about giving our plans away to the enemy so easily, and I'm not sure I could really recommend this without the right reasoning,"

Great, just what I need. I dread what he wants from me, there's not much I can give him. What little earnings I kept from the Hunger Games, maybe the bow Beetee designed for me, he can have all that. It's not that important to me.

"How much for this to be sent straight to Beetee?" I ask; I'm too impatient now to play his games.

"Just answer me this," he's not happy. "What do you see in him?"

I know Gale means Peeta, just the way he almost spits that last word out.

"You mean besides him being caring, funny and just generally a much better person than you could ever hope to be?"

"But he's a liability," Gale hisses. "Seriously Catnip is that what you want? To spend the rest of your life with a man who'll never be able to fight for you? Never be able to tell you how much he loves you. Never be able to-"

"Who says he'll never be able to do these things?" I ask. "He doesn't need to fight for me Gale, I'm a big girl now; I can look after myself, you of all people should know that. And Peeta doesn't need to say how much he loves me; he shows me that every day,"

"I stand by what I said. You deserve better than that," Gale crosses the gap between us. "Kiss me,"

"You cannot be serious," I say plainly. He's lost his mind, that's the only way he could possibly believe this would work.

"Just once, just to be sure you've made your decision," Gale's shuffling his feet only very slightly but I can tell he's uncomfortable. "Please Katniss. Kiss me and I'll send that Propo right now, no questions asked. It'll be on the air before we get back to Thirteen,"

"Gale, get a grip. You know I'm not going to choose you over Peeta. And you've been such a jerk these past weeks, even if Peeta wasn't here I'd struggle to decide between kissing you or Buttercup,"

"Oh, really mature,"

"Says the man begging for a kiss," I bite back.

"Shut up," he snaps.

"Oh come on Gale, this is pathetic. I'm not going to kiss you, just call Beetee,"

"I'm not calling anyone," I notice Gale's face turning slightly red with anger. "Why should I risk my neck for you when you hate my guts? When you value a mute cripple over me despite everything I've done for you and your family,"

"I knew it!" I shout at him. All attempts to keep quiet have been abandoned by the two of us. "All this time you've been making our lives a living Hell, and you're just jealous. I'm sorry Gale, but you chose Coin when you punched me."

Gale's fuming. His breathing's heavy and his fists are clenched.

"What? Going to hit me again?" I taunt him. "Go ahead; it'll be just like old times,"

He raises a fist and I can't help but close my eyes and flinch away, expecting a heavy hand to the jaw.

There's a smack and a thud.

For a second or two I think that the first noise is his hand connecting with my body, but I can't figure out the second noise and there's no pain that follows.

Slowly I open my eyes. Gale's sprawled on the ground out cold; I check around his body and notice a pretty heavy looking rock lying near him.

I look up and there's Peeta making his way over to me on his crutches.

I help him clear the gap and wrap my arms round his waist. He wraps his round my shoulders.

"What just happened?" I eventually ask. Peeta moves back and leans on his crutches.

'_We saw you getting into trouble with Gale. When I saw him get angry I picked up a rock. Then he raised his hand, I did what I had to do.'_

So Peeta had thrown the rock at Gale's head. I have to say I'm impressed, apparently throwing heavy bags of grain as a kid finally paid off.

'_What were you talking about?' _Peeta signs.

'_**I'll tell you later,' **_I assure him. Right now there are more important things.

I turn away from Peeta and crouch next to Gale's mostly still form. His breathing's fine by the looks of things, I'm sure there can't have been much in that thick skull of his to damage.

I take his arm gently, hoping not to wake him. He doesn't stir. I then press a couple buttons on his Communicuff and the screen lights up with several options. I quickly spot the one I'm looking for; _Make Call_.

I select that and a list appears; Beetee's name is near the top.

I check Gale's face one last time; he's still out by the looks of things.

I select the _Dial _option.

It's like the phone that I used to have in the Victor's Village, there's a quick dial tone then a ringing until that finally stops and is replaced by a voice.

"Hello?" comes Beetee's voice.

"Hi Beetee, it's Katniss. We're ready to send the Propo,"

There's a pause and I imagine him typing away at his computer, hacking into some sort of hardware.

"You're using Gale's Communicuff,"

_Crap._

"Umm, yeah," It's about as well formed as I could have hoped for but I'm still pretty embarrassed with myself. I notice Peeta stood over to the side of me waving an arm for attention. When I catch his eye he starts to sign and I translate his words. "There was an accident. There's some fruit trees around, pretty heavy fruits. One fell loose from a high branch and hit Gale, he's unconscious but I think he'll be okay. He was just about to give the order to you."

I can hear Beetee make a non-committal humming sound. Peeta signs a bit more.

"I can bring you one of the fruits back," I say the words before I have time to think. I then shoot Peeta look, this is a huge gamble.

"No, it's fine," Beetee's voice comes through the Communicuff and I feel relieved. "I have the feed from your cameras so I'll get it online now, should take about ten minutes. Just get Gale back, I'm pretty sure Coin won't be happy to hear that her favourite Commander is injured,"

The line goes dead and I drop Gale's arm, I don't care about jostling him now.

I stand up and look at Peeta. He's grinning and so am I.

We've done all we can. Now we just have to wait.

**It's finally done! **This Chapter took freaking ages to write, ah well. Pretty longwinded I know but hey. A big thanks goes out to **The PTB's Red Fox **who came up with the idea for the self portrait, you should all go read her stuff as a way of thanking her. Hope you all enjoyed it, and as always any feedback is welcome. Reviews get previews!


	10. Guilt

**Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, welcome to another Chapter of A Way with Words! **Seems like only yesterday I started writing this thing... Actually, no it doesn't. The amount of motivation I've needed to write this chapter is embarrassing, but I have an excuse! I've been working hard, and now I have a bit of time to write again. Yay! Thanks as always to all the fantastic reviewers!

**Warnings: **Angsty goodness!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hunger Games, it'd be cool if I did. Not for you lot obviously, but it'd be cool for me!

Chapter Ten: Guilt

We walk – with Castor and Pollux carrying Gale - back to the entrance to District Thirteen and it looks like Beetee's already informed someone of what had happened. There are a few Medics that greet us then move Gale onto the stretcher, they get into the elevator before us and we're told to wait while it comes back up.

The Soldiers stood at the entrance don't seem too bothered about us being here. As far as they're concerned the quicker our group gets into that elevator the quicker they can get back into the safety of their bunker.

We're all crammed in when the lift comes back up. Typical. The Commander gets the whole thing to himself and two other medics. Now there's eight of us all squashed together, two of our party are wearing large camera suits. And the Soldiers smell like they've been on duty for a while.

I'm more than happy to be back underground though; compared to the elevator this place is airy and comfortable, although it's still got nothing on the wilderness that lies just a few hundred feet above my head.

The Soldiers slink off before we can say a word to them and I'm glad to just have our team alone.

"We did it," I say. Somehow being back in Thirteen makes the whole thing seem a bit more real. Maybe because I now know we haven't been locked out for high-treason, something I know Coin wouldn't be above at this stage.

"Sure did," Castor agrees.

"Do you really think it'll work?" Messalla asks. I shrug.

"I hope so," is all I can really commit to at the moment.

"Me too," he replies.

"Well, I'd best be getting off. It's been nice working with you all again, best of luck," Cressida nods to our group then turns and leaves, we say our goodbyes and wave. She didn't seem to have had that great a time with us though. There was a glint of nervousness in her eyes when she turned away.

"I'd better get going too," says Messalla before I can think more about Cressida. "Promised a few friends I'd drop by to let them know I'd got back safely,"

Castor and Pollux also leave shortly after Messalla leaving Peeta and I alone.

'_What now?' _he asks.

'_**I don't know. All we can do is wait,' **_I reply.

'_We could go see Finnick and Annie,' _Peeta suggests.

'_**I'd rather not,' **_Peeta gives me a puzzled look. _**'I don't want to be in the same room as Gale in case I punch him,'**_

'_You'd have to get in line,' _Peeta grins. _'Well, that plan didn't work,'_

I laugh and so does Peeta. This is ridiculous. Using Finnick and Annie as a ruse to go hit Gale while he's down. Peeta's definitely been spending too much time with me and Haymitch. But I don't really mind. I know Peeta wouldn't really go any further than glare at Gale if he passed him in the halls, and not just because he'd be carted off into the wilderness before he could get his second punch in. He wouldn't attack Gale because that's not the sort of person Peeta is.

He's a protector. He keeps an eye out for his friends, like Finnick. But he's better than Finnick. Because Peeta's _my _protector. I'll always be his top priority and he'll always be mine. Sure we'll look out for other people, but when push comes to shove, the only ones that matter are me and him.

Peeta's waving a hand in front of my face and I snap out of my daydream.

'_You okay? You look a bit... far away'_

I smile and close the gap between us. I then lean up slightly and kiss him, not for very long and not particularly passionately. He doesn't really have time to respond, but that's okay. I rest my head on his shoulder, he rests his face in my hair, every now and then he'll plant a kiss on my scalp.

I don't know how long we're stood like this for. But suddenly I'm jolted from our comfy solitude by a voice I haven't been hearing much of lately.

"You two lovebirds should come and eat something that's not each other's faces!" It's Prim. I whip away from Peeta and frown.

"You know that barely makes sense, right?" I say. Prim makes a funny 'pfft'ing sound, sounds a bit like an annoyed mule.

"Whatever. Our Mother's working and I can't find anyone from class. Please Katniss? I don't want to eat on my own," Oh the guilt trip. I sigh.

"Fine!" I tut. "We're coming,"

I can hear Peeta chuckle behind me and I'm about to turn around and rant about annoying relatives. I thank whatever part of my brain that reminded me of Peeta's family and to keep my mouth shut.

Losing my Father was awful, I got on with it, but that didn't stop it from hurting. I'd never seen much love between Peeta and that witch of a Mother of his, but I'm pretty sure he'd had a good relationship with his brothers and his Father. To lose them all at once. I imagine losing Prim and my Mother. It hurts just to imagine.

"Come _on_ Katniss, what's the hold up?" I'm vaguely aware of Prim's voice a few feet up ahead.

But it's not until Peeta's stood in front of me, lifting my head so our eyes meet that I realise I've stopped walking.

"Katniss?" Prim has stopped now too. She looks concerned and so does Peeta, I'm not sure why. "Why are you crying?"

Oh. That's why.

Crap!

"Err, I'm not," I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. There's not a lot, in fact I think only one eye was enough of a traitor to let a tear fall, the other is damp though. "My eyes are just stinging a bit, I'm tired and being out in the sun all morning and-"

"You're a lousy liar, Katniss," Prim tuts. She's walked back over to us and taken me in her arms. When did she get so big? We're nearly the same height now. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I sniff. She's right, I am a lousy liar. I look to Peeta, hoping he can come up with some excuse to get Prim off my case. "Seriously, I'm fine. Just, hormones you know?"

"Hmm," Prim doesn't look overly convinced but she turns to Peeta instead. "Make sure she goes to bed; come get me if she's playing hardball,"

"I'm not five!" I protest but Peeta's already given Prim a quick salute. He then signs for me to go with him; I do as I'm told.

We don't sign or speak on the way back to our room, I'm glad that Peeta appreciates privacy. I just keep my head down until we're at our door.

I plonk myself down onto the bed and bring my arms across my face in embarrassment. My tears have gone but my face feels warm and the space behind my eyes is starting to throb.

I feel Peeta's weight shift the bed slightly and I'm soon being held by him, those big arms – finally back to how they were before the Games – keeping me cocooned.

When I'm ready, I push up slightly so I can look him in the eyes.

'_**Sorry,'**_

Peeta shakes his head.

'_What's wrong, Katniss?' _He asks, straight to business.

I take a deep breath, I have no plan for what I want to say, but then, what else is new?

"Aren'tyousadyourfamily'sdead?" I garble. I can barely understand what I'm saying myself and when Peeta raises his eyebrows at me I know I need to slow down. I raise my hands; if anything can slow me down it's having to sign alongside speaking. It also gives me a few moments to form a slightly better worded question. _**'Do you miss your family?'**_

He's not expecting that, I can tell. But I have to give him credit, he doesn't look away, he's just looking at me with a slightly far off gaze he sometimes gets when he's thinking. I've seen that look on his face before when he's been painting something from memory.

He nods. Of course he nods; I can't believe how stupid a question I just asked. Did I miss my Father when he died? I still miss him now!

I'm ready to apologise but Peeta raises his hands before I can speak.

'_I miss them. I miss my Father most, he was kind, he cared for all our family. I feel bad my brothers will never have families of their own to care for. And my Mother... She was my Mother, I have to miss her,' _he shrugs at the last part and I can kind of understand how he feels. His Mother would have never mourned if he'd been the one to perish, we both know that. She'd never been openly pleasant with anyone, especially not her own family. I know not to raise the subject any further. _'Is this why you were upset?'_

"Maybe I can blame a bit on hormones?" I try, he doesn't buy that. _**'Fine, yes,'**_

He leans in and plants a kiss on my lips; I can feel him smile just before he pulls away.

'_You don't have to be upset, Katniss. I'm sad my family is gone, but I'm also relieved,' _I look at him, puzzled. _'I know they're at peace now, nothing can hurt them. Now, all I have to worry about is you,'_

I start to speak; start to tell Peeta that he doesn't need to worry about me but he places his index finger to my mouth. Nice, being told to shut up by the guy who can't talk.

'_I will always worry about you, Katniss.' _I would roll my eyes, but Peeta's holding them with his gaze. _'I used to worry about my family, they're gone now. I still have you though, my last bit of family,'_

'_**Peeta, I'm not-' **_he cuts me off again with that damn finger then takes it away to continue.

'_You could be,'_ he signs. It takes a few moments for his words to sink in, and then.

Wow.

'_**Are you-'**_

'_Yes,' _he signs. _'Marry me? For real this time?'_

I can't move. Maybe I got the translation wrong? But I know I remember Thim teaching the signs for 'Married' and 'Marriage' mainly for Finnick and Annie's benefit.

And even if I hadn't been one hundred percent on the translation, the look in Peeta's eyes is enough for me to know what he means. He's waiting for my answer. Come _on _Katniss! Yes or no question, we can do this.

"Not yet," I hate my brain.

Peeta looks stung and I feel ashamed, I bring up my hands to explain, I'd been in too much shock before to move them.

'_**Not yet,' **_I repeat. _**'Anything could happen now. If we win this Rebellion, my answer's yes,'**_

Peeta ponders this for a few moments, he looks less upset but there's still something bothering him.

'_And if we don't win?'_

'_**It won't matter,' **_I reply. Peeta shakes his head.

'_It will to me,' _he signs. I rub my temple. This should be easy to answer, would I still want to marry Peeta if the Rebellion failed? Of course I would. But I know that would never work out.

'_**Peeta... I love you,' **_I try to gulp but my mouth has gone completely dry. It takes a few seconds for me to find my words. _**'I will love if we win the Rebellion, I will love you if we don't. Marriage is just a ring and some bread over a fire. It can't last through a war,'**_

He looks at me with those blue eyes, I can see he's not completely satisfied with my answer but what else can I say? The only reason I would marry would be if I thought I was going to have children. If we end up losing to the Capitol, I couldn't even dream of bringing a child into the world. I probably wouldn't even survive long enough to think about having a child.

Before this can get any more awkward the door to our room slams open and Haymitch storms in.

"What the hell kind of prank did you two pull this morning?" he shouts. Oh great, something's gone wrong.

"What's happened?" I ask.

"Scouts are reporting mass activity in the Capitol," Haymitch explains. "All accounts are saying that whatever's happening over there, happened less than an hour after Beetee sent over your Propo. A few officials are watching the shoot now,"

"What kind of 'mass activity'?" I ask, everything sounds pretty vague. I wasn't even aware we had 'scouts' in the Capitol, but I suppose that makes sense. Coin's not stupid; she must have a few people in the Capitol working as spies.

"I don't know, but Coin's really not happy," Haymitch sits down on a nearby chair and holds his head in his hands. "What have you done?"

I tell him. I tell him about Peeta's painting, I tell him about how we've called for a ceasefire, I even tell him what really happened with Gale on the understanding that he doesn't breathe a word of it to anyone else.

By the end of me running through the Propo, my old Mentor looks ready to break down in tears.

"Do you two have a death wish or something?"

'_It's a better plan than fighting,' _Peeta signs and I translate.

"Are you kidding me?" Haymitch nearly screams at Peeta. "What made you think this could work? Huh? You've given our whole game plan away,"

"Not really much of a game plan," I say. "I mean, the Capitol must be expecting _something_,"

"Well... yeah," Haymitch sighs, he knows we're right and there's no way he can deny it. "I know just as well as you two that the Capitol aren't so stupid as to not have expected an attack, they've been on high alert since we took Two. But that's not how Coin sees it. You're both going to have to do some serious grovelling, otherwise your heads are gonna be on her chopping board,"

"There's not much we can do now," I shrug. "The Propo's out there, nothing Coin does to us is going to matter now,"

"It'll give her a bit of satisfaction," Haymitch replies and I know he's right. She'd take great pleasure in getting back at me and Peeta purely out of spite.

I don't really know what to say, I just hold my head in my hands and I feel Peeta's arm slip around my waist in support.

I hear the door open again.

"President Coin wants to see you all now," it's Commander Moya. His face doesn't tell me anything. "She's waiting in the Command,"

He leaves without another word to any of us. I look to Peeta and he gives me a reassuring smile.

'_Come on,' _he signs. _'What's the worst that could happen?'_

My Father used to forbid us from using that phrase because of the bad luck it usually brought with it. But then I guess Peeta and I have had bad luck since we first entered the Hunger Games, it's not really anything new.

We're in the Command in less than ten minutes.

Apparently Coin wanted an audience for this because when we get in a few dozen people are crammed in facing Coin. They're people I vaguely recognise as being quite high ranking officials, Moya is there along with all the other Commanders bar Gale.

Coin's stood up at the front and when we enter her eyes fall on me. The whole room is almost silent as we walk towards her; the only things making noise are our footsteps and Peeta's crutches.

We're stopped just in front of Coin by two armed Soldiers; they're carrying guns that are almost the same length as my bow. They make the handguns I was given whilst out on Propo shoots look quite insignificant.

"Everdeen, Mellark," she acknowledges us first then turns to Haymitch. "Abernathy, please take a seat, I wish to speak with these two without you being here to fight their battles,"

Haymitch looks to us both, nods quickly as a way of saying 'good luck' or maybe 'it's been nice knowing you' then goes to take a seat with the other officials.

"Now," Coin folds her arms and rocks back onto her heels slightly. "Haven't you two been busy this morning,"

Peeta shrugs but I know Coin isn't expecting an answer from me.

"People of District Thirteen," Coin addresses the others in the room. I look around and notice a camera stood on a tripod near Coin; this is probably being broadcast throughout the District. "These two people could well be the reason for the failure of our Rebellion tomorrow. They have acted without regard for your lives; they have broadcast our intentions to the entirety of the Capitol. This has compromised our slim chance at freedom. Everything that has been worked for up until now, potentially wasted.

"I must apologise on behalf of these two to all the Soldiers and Commanders who have worked tirelessly for months, in some cases years. Your efforts are still very much appreciated but it must be understood that in light of these new conditions our mission will be much harder. If we don't keep to our attack plan District Thirteen will likely be bombed into oblivion before we can mount an alternative attack. But with the Capitol's defences now at an all time high the battle will be much riskier.

"I also offer condolences to the men and women who have worked on weapons, armour, tactics and anything else to benefit the Rebellion. While we will still be in need of all your works they may be wasted thanks to Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen," Coin is talking with a sick sort of sincerity that's almost painful to listen to. "You're all probably wondering two things, much like I did when I first was made aware of what had taken place. How and why? How and why did Everdeen and Mellark manage to pull this frankly heinous act? Well the 'How' is quite easily answered. For they did not act alone,"

Coin lifts one hand and flicks it in a gesturing motion. A door opens to her left and some people walk out and stand between us and Coin.

I recognise half the people in the line-up: Pollux, Castor, Beetee, Cressida, Messalla and Plutarch. They all look a little worse for wear, Pollux has a black eye as does Beetee, Castor's nose is bent and bleeding, Cressida and Messalla seem flustered but otherwise unharmed and Plutarch looks like he got the worst of whatever punishment they went through, his lip has swollen, his nose is bleeding and I'm pretty sure I can see where a tooth has gone missing.

I can guess what caused my accomplices dishevelled appearances. The other six people who are stood behind them are Soldiers. They're all carrying guns like the ones who stopped us getting too close to Coin only these new Soldiers have their guns pointed at their marks.

I look to Peeta, he's gone white as a sheet, he can see where this is going just as well as I can.

"These six District Thirteen members have played vital roles in aiding Everdeen and Mellark. They have gone behind my back and even stooped to lying-" Coin shoots Plutarch a look when she says this "-to me about what their intentions were,"

"I told you, I didn't know what Everdeen had planned," Plutarch argues but is quickly silenced when the Soldier marking him shoves the back end of his gun into his ribs. He doubles up and I can see the others cringe.

"Some have denied their knowledge of Everdeen and Mellark's intentions, others have told me they were well aware of what was going to happen," I can guess who said what. "This leads me to believe that some of these people you see before me are lying. And those who lied directly to me are the ones I'm less likely to believe on this occasion,"

I can see Plutarch actually gulp. There's sweat on his face, probably from stress and pain.

"Therefore I am inclined to believe that these _citizens_ worked directly against me and in turn against all of us," Coin explains. "So we know _how_ they pulled it off. Now for the _why_,"

There's a pause and Coin looks to Peeta and I, I half expect her to allow us to explain ourselves but then she starts to talk again and I remember that this is Coin. She wouldn't want us to voice our reasons in case people actually agreed with them.

"My guess is as good as any, but I don't think that asking either of these two would really help. After all, why would they tell the truth? So here's my theory; Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark have been embittered towards District Thirteen's efforts against the Capitol. They never actually chose the Rebellion themselves. Had they won the Hunger Games for a second time they would have simply gone back to living a life of luxury that the Capitol had given them, even if just one had survived, they would have carried on without a word against the Capitol,"

I want to scream and shout and scratch at Coin's face for her words, but I know it would only mean trouble for those stood in front of me. I keep quiet.

"We rescued these two from possible death and all we asked for in return was support in the Rebellion. Instead they do this. They give away our plans to the enemy, they tell the Capitolists that we wish to cease fighting and make friends. This might seem like a good idea Citizens of District Thirteen but don't be fooled! The reality is that Everdeen and Mellark don't care about what happens. They miss their easy lifestyles; they begrudge us for taking that away in order to try for a freer world. This is their chance to get back to Snow and back to their happy lives. They don't care about us Ladies and Gentlemen, they are just a product of the Capitol.

"And if you want more proof," Coin continues. "Simply look to those in front of me. Plutarch Heavensbee; born in the Capitol, came to join the Rebellion when he was young and still had potential, but his time as an insider in the Capitol poisoned his mind, that is his real home. Pollux and Castor, two brothers born into the Capitol, Pollux seems to believe that as he was made a slave by the Capitol he could stand a chance against them, but the reality is he and his brother can't bear to fight against their home. Cressida and Messalla, again, brought up in the lap of luxury, only came to join the Rebellion when they were asked to join. They did so out of cowardice and nothing else. And Beetee, much like Mellark and Everdeen, not a Capitol native but intoxicated by Snow's treatment of his precious victors,"

"All of the people you see here have conspired against our District. Normally I would suggest imprisonment for these sort of crimes, but I think that given the heinous nature of their actions, prison would be too easy. I see this to be the only other alternative," Coin raises a hand and the Soldiers marking our allies raise their guns to their heads. I can see tears running down Cressida's face, and Messalla looks fit to do the same. The rest are stony-faced, I can see a muscle in Plutarch's jaw twitch.

The two guards who halted us when we first entered the room are now holding their guns to our heads as well.

I want to reach over to Peeta and take his hand but he's just a bit too far away for me to make a move.

So this is how we die. In front of hundreds, maybe even thousands now that those from the Districts have moved to Thirteen. Finnick and Annie are going to have to watch this in the Hospital I'm sure. Watch their friends die with the knowledge that there's nothing they can do to stop it. Maybe they'll try to rebel, I wouldn't put it past them.

Haymitch is going to have to watch us die first hand. I just hope that if they do win their Rebellion there'll be a way for him to get his hands on a large supply of white liquor. He shouldn't have to remember something like this. No one should.

I feel guilt like never before as my eyes scan over the people before me. All innocent no matter how I look at it. Sure they could've walked away at any time, they chose to help us instead of Coin, but then I realise none of them really knew what was happening until it happened. And Plutarch and Cressida, I'd basically blackmailed them into this. That thought makes me feel a bit ill.

My thoughts finally drift to Prim and my Mother. That's more painful than any other thoughts I've had. They've already lost my Father; at least they didn't have to watch his death. They're going to watch my brains getting blown out. Maybe they'll look away before the trigger's pulled. But I know my family, they'll watch until the broadcast is over. Frozen like I am now. Their eyes glued to the projection.

"Do any of you have some last words?" Coin asks; I know that's just a nasty little dig at Peeta. There are so many things I want to say. I want to tell the whole of Thirteen how manipulative Coin is and how she will cause ruin no matter what happens. But I don't speak up, I fear that if I do my life will just be cut even shorter.

The rooms silent. I hear each gun being cocked and I lower my head. In a few seconds I'll be with my Father.

I don't say anything but in my head I just repeat over and over again _I'm sorry, _to no one in particular.

"WAIT!" I tense quickly when I hear Haymitch's voice boom through the Command. From the sound of a chair scraping I can tell that he's on his feet but I don't turn to look at him. I'm mentally urging him to shut up and sit down, one wrong word and Coin will make sure he'll be joining us.

The room is quiet and I'm guessing Coin has gestured for Haymitch to continue.

"I think I know a better way of doing this." Well, can't say I was expecting him to say that. But then given my Mentor's general opinion of me I can't say I'm overly surprised. "Think about it Coin. Do you really want these people's blood on your hands? They are still Thirteen citizens after all,"

"Citizens who don't wish to be here," Coin corrects and for once I agree with her.

"All the same," Haymitch replies. "Wouldn't it be easier to just send them into battle? Strategically it's probably the best we've got. Send them down let's say twenty minutes before the main attack. Capitolist Soldiers rush out to deal with the Mockingjay and her crew, absolute pandemonium. Then while that's being sorted and they're celebrating the death of their main targets send in the real enforcements,"

Part of me wants to argue about being used as bait. But then I think there's a slight chance to redeem myself. I could help our friends get away. Get them to run while I get annihilated, after all they're only interested in me.

_And Peeta_, a small voice in the back of my head corrects. Which is true, and I know Peeta wouldn't run anyway. He'd want to stay with me until the very end.

Coin is mulling this new plan over and I can hear a murmur of assent from the people behind me. Apparently they think more to this idea than Coin's public execution. At least this way they can blame the Capitol for our deaths. And there'll be fewer brains and bits of skull to mop up.

"I can see your logic, Abernathy," Coin must have waved the Soldiers down because the gun barrel is no longer pointing at my face. "Very well. Guards, take these men and women to the holding areas for tonight. Tomorrow we take back our lives,"

I sneak a look at Haymitch before I leave. His face is completely unreadable but before I turn away I see one eye close on its own, it's an almost imperceptible wink, but I got it.

Again, I don't know if he's saying 'good luck' or 'it's been nice knowing you'.

**Another Chapter for you readers to get your teeth into. **Originally this was going to be the last Chapter with a bit of a different ending. But then inspiration arrived and thus you get another Chapter, you poor things! As always stay tuned and if you want to leave feedback it's always welcomed. Reviews mean previews!


	11. Power

**Here we are folks! **Last proper Chapter. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and stuck with this fic for so long! You're all absolute champions. I'm just starting my placement and I barely have time for writing so this'll be the most you'll see from me for a while. Also, just been to the first half of a Makaton course and realised my definition of how 'Cat' is signed was wrong so forgive me! Anyway, let's get on with this!

**Warnings: **Angst and very minor violence.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hunger Games.

_Chapter Eleven: Power_

I'm marched down to the cells that I first found my old prep team in. I watch as Messalla and Cressida are shoved into one room, Pollux and Castor into the one next to the them, Plutarch takes a cell to himself and I'm happy to have Peeta join me in our own cell.

There is literally nothing in here besides the light fitting.

No toilet, I'll have to wait until morning unless they let us out for breaks at any point, which I doubt. The walls are grey as is the floor and the ceiling. There's no beds either so I guess we're sleeping on the floor tonight.

Coin sure does know how to treat her prisoners.

'_Home, sweet home,' _Peeta signs. I suppose this could be worse, I think back to finding my old prep team in a room like this, how they'd been kept for weeks with little food and none of the home comforts that even I'd have struggled without.

We settle down in one of the corners facing the door, Peeta wraps his arms around me and I lean my head on his chest.

We're quiet for I don't know how long. There's no clock in the room which isn't particularly surprising. But it makes it very difficult to measure time. We could have been sat here for minutes or hours. I wouldn't know; the only means of keeping time I have is if I count Peeta's heartbeats.

I turn to face Peeta and his eyes seem far away until he notices that I've moved.

'_**Scared about tomorrow?' **_I ask. He shrugs in a non-committal way.

'_Not really,' _he eventually signs back. _'I've been prepared to die for a long time,'_

I smack his chest and he gives me a shocked look. I don't bother apologising.

'_**Don't be like that,' **_I hiss. _**'This isn't over,'**_

Peeta shrugs.

'_Will be tomorrow,'_

'_**So that's it? We're going to die tomorrow and that's that?'**_

'_Yeah, that's what's going to happen,' _Peeta's scowling at me now like I've done something to deliberately hurt him.

'_**Why are you being like this?'**_

'_Don't know what you mean,'_

'_**Don't lie to me Peeta. I know we messed up but maybe if we can just stall whatever comes after us-'**_

'_You really think Coin is going to let us live? Face it Katniss, if we're not dead within twenty minutes of the Capitol forces shooting at us, Coin will just wait a bit longer until we are,'_

I sigh, he's right. I'm about to tell him I understand but he starts signing some more.

'_I just hope the others can find shelter, they don't deserve to die,'_

Even though I've been hoping for the same thing, seeing Peeta with this same mentality shakes me a bit. He's meant to be the one searching for a way out of this, but instead he's just resigned himself to death. And there's something else that doesn't sit quite right with me.

'_**Do you think we do deserve to die?' **_I ask, almost fearing the answer.

There's a new expression that slowly dawns on Peeta's face as he rethinks what he's just signed to me. His mouth opens and closes in a reflex action, sometimes his body is still ready to answer in speech. He quickly starts to sign again.

'_I didn't mean it like that,'_ I should just drop it here; this is our last night together. But then again, it _is _our last night together, if I don't get answers now I'll never get them.

'_**How did you mean it then?' **_I ask.

'_We knew what we were getting ourselves into Katniss, they didn't,'_

'_**So for that we just deserve to die? You're okay with that?'**_

'_I'm just saying, if anyone deserves it, it's us,'_

I can't say anything back, I can't think of anything else to say.

'_Katniss, I don't mean that I want us to die. But can you really say that we're totally blameless? We knew the risks, the others didn't,'_

'_**Couldn't you be just a little more optimistic?' **_I can't believe I'm the one asking Peeta to be more cheerful. But there's a first time for everything I suppose.

'_Says the one who won't get married just in case Snow doesn't fall,' _Peeta's glaring at me now and it all starts making sense.

"This is what it's all about?" I choose not to sign anymore, I'm too angry with Peeta. "I won't marry you so you're going to be like this?"

Peeta doesn't have a comeback. I know I've hit the nail on the head otherwise he'd be denying it furiously.

The door opens without warning and there are two Soldiers walking toward us with trays of food. So at least we get the luxury of a final meal. Maybe we'll get breakfast too. Perhaps that's wishful thinking.

I grab my tray without saying thank you, as far as I'm concerned the Soldiers don't care whether I live or die. Why should I be polite?

I hear Peeta place his tray to the ground and the Soldiers quickly leave, locking the door behind them.

I immediately start on my meal of broth with two thick slices of bread. Desert is vanilla custard, not great but it'll do. I wash the remnants of the meal down with my large glass of water and finally chance a look at Peeta.

He's not started his meal; he's just staring at it.

Maybe I should tell him a hunger strike probably won't do much good at this point, but I can't bring myself to speak. I'm just too mad.

We sit for so long in silence I wonder if we've been like this for days. No one comes to take the trays and still Peeta doesn't touch his food. I'm still a bit hungry and the sight of his untouched plate isn't helping. I wonder if that's his plan. But I won't give him the satisfaction of letting him know I'm craving another couple bites of chicken and broccoli broth.

I won't give him that satisfaction, however my treacherous body will.

My stomach growls and in this small room the sound reaches every corner.

Peeta looks up and I instantly lower my gaze.

I hear a scraping and soon the tray moves into my field of vision. I just push it back and say I'm not hungry.

More silence follows.

Eventually the lights dim and I guess that's our captor's way of telling us it's time for bed. I'm more than happy to lie down facing the wall and try to get some sleep.

I can hear Peeta slide down and the fidgeting that ensues. I'm more used to sleeping rough thanks to a childhood that meant giving up my own bed for patients at least once a week. Peeta's body is used to some sort of mattress, the cold floor will feel extra uncomfortable.

As I start to drift off to sleep part of me thinks I should be happy that Peeta's going to struggle to sleep tonight. He's made me angry enough tonight for me to wish for some payback.

But there's a much bigger part of me that wishes we'd never had that argument, and that I could be over at the other side of the room telling him the most comfortable position for sleeping on a floor.

I wake up to find the lights are still dimmed and I can make out a figure very close to my face. There's that light smell of flour that never leaves no matter how long he spends away from the kitchen. My eyes start to focus and I can make out every detail on Peeta's face although it's slightly shadowed from the position he's leaning in.

Peeta sits back slightly and signs to me; there's concern on his face.

'_You were screaming,' _he signs. _'Thought it would be best to wake you up,'_

I vaguely remember feeling a heavy grip on both my shoulder just before my dream ended. I shudder as I remember it.

I'd been in the Capitol with just Peeta at my side.

There were thousands of Capitolists stood before us carrying weapons: guns, axes, knives, some of the smaller ones were carrying slingshots.

They started to fire everything at us and I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, expecting Peeta to keep pace.

When I got far enough away to dodge the onslaught I chanced a look back, and there was Peeta. Lying on his back, his body bloodied from countless wounds.

The scene shifted and I was stood next to Peeta's body crying. Snow was stood by me along with two men who looked like the undertakers from back in District Twelve. The men who would come to collect the emaciated bodies of Seam kids so many times.

One of the men turned to me.

"So what relation are you to this man?" he asked.

"He's my... my," I couldn't think what to say.

"He's nothing to her," Snow said plainly. "A young woman who did not return his affections. That's all she is,"

"No!" I shouted at him. "You're wrong, I love him! Please, I love him!"

All three men looked from me to Peeta. I looked to Peeta as well and I was shocked at what I saw.

His eyes were wide and staring at me.

Then he spoke. I should have been elated to hear his voice after weeks of silence. But his voice was flat and the words cut me deeper than any of those weapons could have.

"You don't love me, Katniss."

I was screaming then and that's when I felt the grasping sensation on either shoulder.

I grab hold of Peeta and hold him as tight as I can. I worry that if I don't keep hold of him he might just slip away from me.

He holds me just as tightly and rocks in a gentle rhythm to soothe me.

"Hm Shrry," I mumble into Peeta's chest. He chuckles and I feel it flow through his body. I pull back and look into his eyes. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get into a fight with you,"

Peeta shakes his head and smiles.

'_I'm sorry too, I was being an idiot,'_

'_**You've been spending too much time with me and Haymitch,'**_

We both laugh and I realise there's something I need to do to really make up for our falling out.

I lean over to Peeta's untouched tray and grab one of the slices of bread. It's gone stale from being out in the air for too long but there's no mould and I'll have eaten worse at some point. I tear it in two and hand one piece to Peeta.

He looks at it like I've just handed him all the gold in the world. He looks up to me then back at the bread and back to me again.

'_You're sure?' _he asks with one hand. I nod.

We scoot so that we're sat opposite one another. We each place the bread in our right hand then hold it to the other's mouth. I take a bite as does Peeta and we chew slowly. It's dry and sweetened from its time left out, but it still tastes better than any other bread I've tasted. And I've had Peeta to bake for me.

I lean in and kiss him on his lips and he returns the favour. It's a necessary part to seal the bond between us, but honestly I just need to feel close to him again.

'_**I love you, Peeta,'**_

'_I love you too, Katniss Mellark,'_

We drift off to sleep again in each other's arms; I can't help but think that has quite a nice ring to it.

The next morning we're woken up by the same two Soldiers who brought us food last night, they hand us our clothes and leave with nothing but our trays from the night before. They don't offer any breakfast but honestly I don't think I could stomach it even if they did.

I can't help but smirk when I see my outfit. It's Cinna's Mockingjay suit, just as amazing as the day I first tried it on. Coin obviously still wants to make an impression and I can't help thinking this could have been her plan all along. She had told me I'd be on the front line, how much more frontline can you get than dressed up as a symbol of the Rebellion twenty minutes before any other enforcements arrive?

Peeta has a simple set of District Thirteen clothes; I notice they've sent him a pair of socks. I wonder if this was done by mistake or if it was just another little ironic jab for Coin to get in before we're carted off to our deaths. Part of me wants to do something crude and unpleasant to the spare sock, but I decide against it mainly because I don't think we have the time.

We both change without concern for seeing each other's bodies; after all, we are married now. The mere thought makes me smile until I remember what we're getting dressed for and my face quickly droops again.

Five minutes later the Soldiers return and march us out down the corridor. None of our other accomplices are there and part of me hopes that Coin has decided to let them go. But I seriously doubt it.

We take the elevator up to ground level and when we exit there's a medium sized aircraft waiting for us.

We get on board; there are seats much like the ones I remember from the few times I'd been in cars, stiff leather things with seat belts.

I notice Beetee sat in one further ahead, he's sat next to a Soldier and I realise as our own chaperones close the gap I am going to have to sit with one of them. The larger one of the two cordons me off, away from Peeta and over towards a spare set of seats near the back.

I take one last look around, seems like Peeta and I were the last ones to get here. Beetee and Messalla are sat one row ahead, then Cressida and Plutarch and I can make out the tops of Castor and Pollux's heads right at the front. Each is sat at their own window seat with their personal Soldier sat by the side of them. Probably in case we decide to try fleeing from a flying ship, something that Coin no doubt thinks we're stupid enough to try.

I steal a final look at Peeta, he gives me a small smile but I can tell the nerves are starting to set in, they sure are setting in with me.

We take our seats and are told by an electronic voice over a tannoy to fasten our seatbelts. We buckle up and in less than twenty seconds the sound of the engine starts to roar to life.

I feel a lurch in the pit of my stomach and I glance out of the window beside me, the ground is getting further and further away, the hole that had lead us up from Thirteen slowly blurs into insignificance as the aircraft gains height and sets off at speed.

No matter what happens today at least I can guarantee I'll never have to return to that place again.

We travel in complete silence, none of the Soldiers say anything to each other, obviously they've been given strict instructions to not give us the benefit of even being able to listen to mundane babblings.

At one point I try to lean around the Soldier next to me to see Peeta but as soon as I lean a couple inches out I'm shoved back by an arm that stretches across my shoulders. I get the message. I hear rustlings and the same thudding sound that I'd just made and I guess that Peeta tried the same thing.

It's silent again for hours.

The environment shifts beneath us, the greenery starts to fade and everything becomes more barren. We pass a couple Districts but I can't make out which is which.

The aircraft finally starts to slow and when I press my cheek to the window I can just make out the edge of the Capitol. It doesn't look much different to when I first visited but then, I don't imagine city walls take much damage just because of lack of resources.

The walls draw nearer and I wonder how we're actually going to get into the Capitol, the walls are pretty high, they couldn't be scaled by even the most experienced climbers but our aircraft is already higher than them. But I wonder what sort of technology they've employed to keep enemy crafts out. Maybe we'll have to land and find a passage into the Capitol on foot?

I get my answer when we soar over the walls without any trouble and within five minutes we touch down on Capitol ground. We're right at the entrance which is blocked by an impossibly large gate.

Our guards stand and we do the same. A door to the back of the aircraft which I vaguely remember entering however long ago opens again. We are marched out one by one, I go first. Whether it's because I'm closest to the back or because I'm the one they want shooting first I'm not sure.

The whole thing takes minutes, we leave the aircraft, the Soldiers re-enter, the aircraft buzzes back to life and we're quickly left to study our surroundings.

It's like being in a ghost town. The buildings that form the street in front of us have clearly been abandoned. No one has even dared to loot from them, everything is untouched.

I turn to my old crew. Pollux and Castor are having a small conversation with each other in Sign Language, I don't watch to see what they're saying. The way their heads are bowed I assume it's quite a personal conversation, it would be wrong to pry.

Cressida is looking around in awe of the Capitol, it's obviously been so long since she was last here and although her allegiances with this place have been cut, it was still her home, the place she grew up in. Maybe she recognises this street? Or one similar at least. Messalla has a similar expression on his face.

Plutarch's face is no longer dripping with blood but it's still a mess. The blood that remained has dried to his face giving him what looks a bit like a very uneven ginger beard. His expression is unreadable, he's just staring into space.

Beetee is studying the wall that we just flew over, he's making the humming sounds he sometimes makes when something is puzzling him.

"It seems the Capitol has lowered its defenses," Beetee says. "Normally they have anti-aircraft missiles, but nothing was triggered. Perhaps they don't have the resources to power such defenses any more,"

"Or they're ready for a fight," I add. Beetee smiles.

"Probably both," he says. "But either way, we're lucky to have survived that, under normal circumstances we'd be a pile of rubble right now,"

I notice Plutarch's head snap around and before anyone knows what's happening Beetee's being pinned to a wall.

"Lucky to have survived?" Plutarch is screaming in Beetee's face. Castor and Pollux are now stood close to the two older men, waiting to jump in when it gets ugly. "In case you hadn't noticed, we've been sent here to _die_!"

I'm surprised at how well Beetee responds to being pinned against the wall, his face is smooth and calm.

"There's still hope," Beetee says. "You wouldn't understand Plutarch, you've never had your life held so uncertainly before. But I have, and so have Katniss and Peeta. We've been in this situation before; this is just another Hunger Games,"

"Except there's eight of us against an entire population!"

Beetee somehow manages to shrug under Plutarch's hold. The ex-Gamemaker pushes away in frustration and stands with his back to our group.

"This wasn't meant to happen," he mutters.

No one speaks after this. I walk to Peeta and we share a quiet kiss, if I'm going to die I want to do it being as close to Peeta as possible.

That's when the rumbling starts. It's quiet at first but it builds and builds. We all know what that rumbling is; footsteps.

I put a hand on Peeta's, he keeps his hands on his crutches for balance but he leans closer to me.

The first few people trickle out from the left of the street. They're too far away for me to see anything other than that they're human and they're moving towards us.

My heart's beating at an alarming rate and I'm cursing my body. I wanted to do this as composed as possible but as I look to my hand that's resting on Peeta's I see it trembling with nerves.

I look back to the crowd that's now grown considerably and got a bit nearer. I see Cressida take a few steps back as though that slight distance between herself and the masses will make any difference.

I want to fall into Peeta's arms and shy away from our impending doom but I know I have to stay strong. For all I know this could be getting broadcast, I wouldn't put it past Coin to have some hidden camera set up somewhere, somehow. I can't risk Prim seeing me break down.

I try counting the number of shops that distance us from the crowd but I keep losing count, my mind's racing with the idea that these could well be my last few seconds alive.

"I love you, Peeta," I say. I say it so quietly I barely hear it myself, I don't move my lips either. But I know he heard me. He takes his hand off his crutch, places my hand on it then places his hand over mine.

The crowd stop a good five or six shops away and I can finally take in their appearances. They're wearing ridiculous clothes as only Capitol residents can. But there's something less fine about their outfits, like they've had to go more than a day without washing the fine materials.

Not all of them are carrying weapons which doesn't surprise me, a crowd that size would only cause mayhem with a weapon each. But there's enough to cause some serious damage.

I try to size up how many people there are, but there's just too many. They're filling the street now. There could be hundreds, maybe even a couple thousand. Part of me thinks this is sort of overkill for eight people but then, people in the Capitol did always like a bit of drama.

We're in a standoff for over a minute and as the tension rises to unbearable levels I'm ready to scream at someone to shoot.

But I'm glad I don't.

One figure steps out of the crowd and paces slowly toward us. They're skinny and their hair's been dyed an unnatural colour, but that's nothing new. They walk with that familiar swagger that only Capitol women can seem to pull off.

She stops two shops short of us and I'm finally able to process the figure stood in front of us.

"Hello Katniss, hello Peeta," Effie Trinket smiles at us warmly as though she's just about to prep us for an interview. Her hair is in only slight disarray but her clothes are hanging perfectly in true Effie style.

I'm completely lost for words; I look from Effie to Peeta who looks just as dumbfounded as I feel. I'm pretty sure we're meant to be dead right now, not chatting to Effie.

"Erm, hi?" I try. Part of me is expecting her to draw out a gun from behind her back, just for this to make a bit more sense. Although the idea of Effie with a gun will never make sense in my mind. I can't imagine her carrying anything heavier than a purse.

"I hope you two have been keeping well," Effie smiles. "We all saw your film yesterday, what you did was very brave,"

We're all silent.

"As you were probably aware, once the film had been aired throughout the Capitol, we all jumped into action,"

"Well, we were told there was 'mass activity'," I tell her, remembering Haymitch's words. "But that was about it,"

"Hmm," Effie walks a bit closer and rubs her chin with her index finger and thumb. "So you don't know about the uprising then?"

_No_. Is the only coherent word running through my head. There can't have been an uprising, we were meant to die here and now at the hands of angry Capitolists.

I shake my head.

"Shortly after the film was broadcast, the Avoxes working within President Snow's Quarter's rebelled, there were more of them than there were guards. They took to the street and soon, once we saw that Snow's men weren't taking action, the citizens of the Capitol took to the streets as well," Effie explains. "We've been waiting for you to arrive since yesterday,"

"So Snow's dead?" Beetee asks. Effie nods and I have to do a double take.

"Killed by one of his most utilised Avoxes. She was with him at the time of the broadcast, when it finished she grabbed a knife and stabbed it through his throat," says Effie in such a matter of fact way she could have been telling us about the weather.

"Err, so you were waiting for us?" I ask.

"Oh yes," Effie smiles. "We expected you to arrive at some point."

"Well, we were meant to be executed by you guys by now, Coin sent us in first as punishment for our little publicity stunt," I explain.

"Oh," Effie looks puzzled. "Well, this could be a problem,"

We wait for her to continue.

"Well, as we no longer have a President we would have assumed the responsibility of Panem's rule would simply have fallen to your leader. _However_, the eight of you are the reason for our uprising, you are the ones who gave us hope. I don't think we can, in all good consciousness, allow someone who sent you to your possible deaths to take charge,"

"I'm not sure if that will really be up to you," says Plutarch. I have to admit, it does seem a bit idealistic to think Coin will just roll over and allow someone else to take charge.

"Then who will it be up to? Your President alone? Surely your citizens of all people will be in favour of a vote," Effie smiles and I want to run and hug her. She's talking loud enough for the immediate crowd behind her to hear, they murmur sounds of agreement and as the word makes its way further back the sounds of agreement escalate.

This could well be it, we just need to get the majority of the Thirteen citizens on board and Coin will be out of power, we'll be free to choose who we want.

Everyone will be able to live decent lives.

Peeta and I can live a decent life.

An aircraft flies overhead and lands not far from our group. I hope these aren't the reinforcements, I'm sure our twenty minutes are up and as we're clearly not dead or about to be dead and I'm wondering if Coin has sent them to spice things up. There are some in the crowd carrying weapons and I'm not completely sure why, perhaps it was in case of this happening.

I feel Peeta grip my hand and we watch as the aircraft hatch opens.

Coin steps out with a handgun already aimed at my head.

"We heard everything," she says calmly. "Clearly none of you noticed the microphones sewn into your uniforms,"

I don't bother checking, I know she's not bluffing. To be honest, I don't care if she could hear what I was saying or not.

"All this about voting in a new ruler, hah!" Coin barks a humourless laugh. "These people aren't capable of voting for a good leader, they are too used to the comfortable lifestyle set out by Snow, they would only be won by fake promises. They need to be told what to do,"

I can see Peeta roll his eyes, he lets go of my hand and starts to sign. I translate for him.

"It's over Coin," I say. "The people have spoken and it's only a matter of time before the citizens of Thirteen do the same. If we're going to start a new Panem, surely we need a different way of electing our leaders?"

"You know nothing of power," Coin spits. She looks slightly mad. "None of you do,"

"And you know a bit too much," I really wish those could have been my own words and not Peeta's. "Face it Coin, your days as leader are over,"

There's a deadly edge to Coin's eyes that I've seen only in flickers before. I remember the saying 'if looks could kill', I think that look would equate to a massacre.

We look into each other's eyes for a moment or two. Then Coin begins to move her arm slightly and I hear the one sound I've been waiting to hear for hours.

A gunshot.

**Okay, okay. **So I kind of ended the last 'proper' Chapter on a bit of a cliff hanger. Forgiveness? No? Ah well, let me know what you thought anyway. I'm afraid there won't be a preview for next week's Chapter but feel free to review anyway. See you all next Tuesday!


	12. Epilogue

**Last Chapter folks! **Seriously this time, no more I promise. I'm just going to get on with it.

**Warnings:** None really, just read on.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

_Chapter Twelve – Epilogue_

It's been five years since the uprising in the Capitol. Five years exactly today.

Every year the anniversary is celebrated as Freedom Day. There's food, dancing and music in the streets. People bring anything they have to spare and everything's shared. It's a nice atmosphere, something we've been lacking for a long time.

Since the uprising things have taken a turn for the better. Shortly after Coin shot me in the arm, one of the Capitol citizens shot her straight in the head. Her armed guards didn't even dare to leave the aircraft with the amount of weapon-wielding people in the crowd. My wound was pretty superficial; Johanna got a kick out of me telling her that her handiwork with a knife back in the Quarter Quell did more damage.

Of course that meant we were left with the decision of who our next leader was going to be. Which I think went better than I could have hoped.

First we had to move everyone out of District Thirteen, there was no point them hiding underground without the threat of Snow. Haymitch lead the majority of the move with very little objection from the Thirteen Citizens. After all, they had all dreamt of freedom their entire lives. Other than the few worries about leaving their home and the availability of supplies in the Capitol, the arguments against leaving Thirteen were slim.

A handful of people stayed, we needed some of the technology there and to completely abandon it would have been foolish. But within a few months all the main equipment had either been sent over to the Capitol or copies had been made.

Once everyone was in the same place I made a quick speech, Cressida had made sure sound equipment was brought over and a microphone was set up in the centre where most people not native to the Capitol had taken up residence, either in abandoned houses, with other families or in shops.

I let everyone know that we needed a leader and for anyone interested in taking the position to take to the stage at the same time in twenty four hours.

A day passed and four people took to the stage. They each made a speech then everyone was given a slip of paper. We didn't have to write anything on it, each candidate had a box in front of them. The candidate with the most slips of paper won.

I put my slip down in Paylor's box. Maybe my actions did affect other citizen's choices, maybe Paylor just made the best speech. But whatever it was, she won by a landslide victory.

That day, she got to work on organising how to rebuild Panem.

For the first year most people were living in the Capitol. Experts in each District were offered very hefty payouts to go to their old Districts and stay there to direct repairs. I don't know all the ins and outs, all I know is that within a year and a half, Peeta and I had moved back to District Twelve which had been built back up well.

My Mother didn't join us, she went to work in Eight; it was in desperate need of Medical staff after the Hospital bombing. She still visits every couple of months by train.

Prim followed us along with a train full of ex-residents but also a few people from other Districts. Now that they were free to live where they liked, people started to choose places based on things like what job they wanted to do, what food they wanted to eat, some even came purely because of the climate.

In the second year we elected a Mayor in Twelve. Owan Tyles, a man originally from District Six, won most of the population's votes, he focused heavily on getting good transport links with other Districts. Within six months people were coming and going thanks to the new train lines, and we had deliveries from all over Panem.

Haymitch moved back to District Twelve to 'keep an eye on' Peeta and I. We knew he was just getting tired of Effie nagging him all the time. So we did the right thing. We invited her to Twelve every chance we could get and told her Haymitch had a spare room she could use.

He scowls and kicks up a fuss every time but we all know he needs someone to pester him.

Peeta and I get a house close to the centre of the District. It's based on the old Merchant houses with a store on the ground floor and the home area on top. The top was plenty big enough for us and Peeta was quick to organise construction of a bakery on the ground floor. Soon Mellark's Bakery was up and running bringing in plenty of customers thanks to jobs that paid fairly enough to allow for surplus cash.

By the third year all the Districts had regained their former glory and then some, we were all free to do what we wanted. I got a job training Game hunters, this profession got popular pretty quickly and soon enough things like squirrel and deer were being sold in every food store.

Peeta was contacted by a specialist medical team from the Capitol. They had developed a prosthetic tongue. It was made from a rubbery material that definitely looked like a tongue but the similarities stopped there.

It didn't feel right. Because Peeta would have little control over it, it was much firmer than a real tongue. We asked if he'd be able to speak with it, the Medics were a bit vague about the effects. They told us he'd be able to form more letters than he would have been able to without a tongue, but it wouldn't be clear like before.

Peeta asked me what I thought and I told him the truth. I told him I couldn't imagine him with that thing in his mouth. I was used to him without a tongue. Peeta told me about his worries about not being understood when he spoke. It was a definite risk but I told him I'd support him with whatever decision he made.

We still sign to each other to this day. Maybe one day when technology advances enough to make a fully functioning tongue prosthetic we'll reconsider. But for now we're quite happy with Peeta just having his fake leg which he acquired a couple weeks after the uprising.

Beetee joined us in District Twelve, said he wanted to live out the rest of his life away from heavy workloads. He still fiddles around with computers a lot but now he does it for pleasure. I'm still not sure how he can tell the difference; it all looks the same to me.

Finnick and Annie moved back to Four, we keep in touch, Annie became pregnant two years after the uprising, now three year old Garrett is well versed in both spoken English and Sign Language.

Signing is being taught throughout Panem so that Avoxes can finally have a voice. Thim started by teaching anyone interested in teaching Sign Language, then thanks to extra resources, learning materials like books and worksheets were made, classes became larger and spread across Panem. We're hoping for at least ten percent of Panem to be fluent in Sign Language within the next ten years.

In the fourth year everything was going smoothly, Peeta and I are settled in our jobs, life was slower than it had been for years and I was enjoying it.

Then Prim brought up the subject of marriage whilst having tea with us one afternoon.

I told her Peeta and I had already had a Toasting in private but Prim wasn't impressed.

"You need to have a proper Toasting!" she had argued. Peeta chuckled to himself in the corner while I tried to come up with a way to get out of marriage talk.

"Peeta and I are married," I tried. "Just because it was a bit unorthodox,"

"Unorthodox?" Prim had snorted. "You didn't even have a fire,"

I asked Peeta what he thought about all this, he shrugged and told me if it made his sister-in-law happy he was willing to go along with it.

I really do have a suck-up for a husband.

So we had a proper Toasting, with a fire and everything to appease my sister.

That night Peeta joked about us living in Sin before then.

'_Imagine if Prim hadn't made us get properly married,' _he had continued. _'Having kids born out of wedlock used to be a big no-go,'_

We'd both stopped when he signed that.

'_**You've been thinking about kids?' **_I asked. Peeta nodded, he looked quite nervous. _**'Good, me too,'**_

I don't think I've ever seen Peeta happier than he was then.

And that's how I ended up bloated as I am now, six months pregnant with our first child. We don't know if the baby's going to be a boy or a girl but I don't think Peeta would mind if it came out unisex, the fact that he's going to be a father has had him in his element since we first found out I was pregnant.

_'Stop fiddling like that,' _Peeta scolds. I've been picking at a few of the feathers on my dress. It's a dark red with fine feather sewn into it; it flows to past my knees. But the familiar bump is more than visible under this thing, it looks a bit like I've stolen a balloon and run out of good hiding places.

'_**Easy for you to say,' **_I reply. _**'You haven't got to be dressed up like a turkey every year,'**_

'_Mockingjay, Katniss,' _Peeta smiles. _'It's called a Mockingjay,'_

'_**I will hurt you in a minute,' **_I glare at him. This is the only part of Freedom Day that I can't be doing with. Every year some stylist from the Capitol will send me over a dress to wear, there's no rules saying I must wear what they send me apart from the obvious obligation that it's the only thing I'm sent and there will be more than a few cameras around Twelve tonight.

It's seven o'clock in the evening. Peeta's dressed in a simple suit so we haven't got an excuse to not leave the house. It's around this time that the real festivities begin, I've already heard a few fireworks being let off now that the sun has set. Music is starting to be played louder and judging by the sound of the cheers and laughter outside, more people have gone out to enjoy Freedom Day.

'_**Right, come on,' **_I sigh. Peeta offers his arm which I take happily. "No getting drunk on my behalf,"

Peeta chuckles and signs back one-handed.

'_I can't promise that,' _There's always alcohol at these sort of events and Peeta has been teasing me mercilessly about not being able to touch a drop of it. I'm not a huge fan of alcohol but a few swigs of white liquor can definitely help.

The streets are lit up with lights of different colours and intensities, I'm guessing some have been brought from people's homes.

The centre is buzzing with life. District Twelve is at a population of about four thousand now, less than it was before the Rebellion but not bad to say only eight hundred survived the bombings.

People are dancing, there's food laid out on tables along with plenty of alcohol. Peeta made sure a stall was set out from the bakery this morning, filled with some of his best bread and cakes, they were probably all gone by now. People don't waste time in getting their hands on free Mellark Bakery goods.

"Hello Sweetheart," Haymitch walks up to us with Effie. She's obviously been having a few strict words with him this morning because he's had a shave, haircut and he's wearing a suit. He's got a drink in his hand but I'm sure he's under an agreement of how many glasses of liquor he's allowed. Effie really is a miracle worker. "Nice dress,"

"Oh it's fabulous," Effie coos and gets me to turn for her. I do so to keep her happy and elbow Peeta when I notice him chuckling.

'_How are you Effie?' _Peeta asks.

"Fine thank you Peeta, yourself?" Effie and Haymitch have both picked up a lot more Sign Language since the uprising but they struggle to talk and sign at the same time.

We make small talk for a lot of the evening, Peeta occasionally asking me to dance. I'm vaguely aware of cameras flashing every now and again but I'm not bothered. It really does turn out to be a good night.

It's about two in the morning when I'm helping Peeta back to our house. He's had a bit to drink and he's just past the tipsy stage.

We get into bed – _eventually _– and Peeta starts to sign to me. It's funny how even Sign Language can be slurred.

'_I love you,' _Peeta smiles, nearly slapping himself in the face when he makes the sign for 'love'.

'_**I love you too,'**_ I reply. _**'Now go to sleep, you're drunk,'**_

'_Am not,' _he signs back nearly getting me in the face with his right hand. His eyes flutter shut anyway and I cuddle up next to him.

I'm woken up the next day by Haymitch knocking at the front door.

"This had better be worth me getting woken up at nine," I grumble.

"Beetee's dead," Haymitch sighs. "I always seem to be the messenger for these kind of things, huh?"

"What... how?" I ask. Surely I saw him last night, I wrack my brains for when I might have been talking to him but nothing springs to mind.

"I went to check on him on my way back," said Haymitch. "It's not like him to miss out on something like that. The door was unlocked so I let myself in; he was just sat at his desk. Head was on the keyboard like he'd fallen asleep. Called in some Medics, whatever got him got him quick,"

I invite Haymitch in so we can talk more comfortably, I make up a pot of tea and we got through the finer details.

The Medics hadn't suspected any foul play. It looked to them like a sudden heart attack. Sad but at least he wasn't in any pain.

"They're going to have the funeral here," says Haymitch. "And District Three are going to hold a ceremony too,"

That's usually the way funerals work now unless someone states that they want their funeral in their home District.

It's two weeks later that I'm walking with Peeta towards the new Justice Building. It's still used for formal events like weddings and funerals but it's a lot less daunting than the old one. It's not guarded and anyone can visit when they wish. The fact that names of tributes aren't read from there every year helps too.

The ceremony's quite brief then a few people take to the stage and say their part about Beetee.

Finnick's reading out a speech about our time in the Games together, I notice he keeps looking up to a particular spot in the crowd. Something's bothering him, there's an almost imperceptible frown on his face whenever he looks over.

I crane my neck and have to suppress a yell.

Gale is sat in the crowd not too far from Peeta and I. He's alone as far as I can tell, dressed in a plain suit and focusing a bit too hard on what Finnick is saying.

I heard rumours that he moved to District Two after being offered a job in defence design. That had given me a good enough reason to forget about him completely for these five years and focus on things that actually matter to me.

He had better not be making a long trip out of this visit, there are only so many days I can lie low.

The ceremony ends and I make a quick exit with Peeta, he hasn't seen Gale so he doesn't understand why I want to leave so suddenly.

I'm walking home when Peeta grabs me and gets me to face him.

'_Where do you think you're going?' _he asks. _'The reception is over in the old Victor's Village,'_

'_**Gale's here,' **_I explain. _**'I can't be around him,'**_

Peeta laughs in my face, I fail to see what's so amusing. I move my index finger from side to side to ask '_what'_.

'_You can't be around him?'_ he repeats. _'Katniss Mellark, the woman who helped bring the Capitol to its knees and survived the Hunger Games twice can't brave a little awkward situation,'_

'_**He tried to kiss me,'**_

'_Only tried though. I could try to take up ballet, doesn't mean it would work out well for me,'_

He has got a point. I chose Peeta over Gale, the only person who should be nervous about this thing is Gale.

'_Come on Katniss,' _Peeta gives me that encouraging smile he usually gives to new employees at the bakery. _'I'll protect you from the big bad Gale,'_

He winks at me and I'm remembering our Propo shoot five years ago. When Gale lured me out away from the others and turned on me.

'_**Remember before the uprising,' **_I say. _**'When we were shooting our last Propo and I ended up in the clearing with Gale,'**_

'_Yeah,'_

'_**You asked me what he'd said,' **_I stop for a moment and take a deep breath. _**'I forgot to tell you what happened,'**_

'_It's not like we didn't have a lot going on,' _Peeta jokes.

'_**That's true. But I still think I should let you know.' **_The memories are fresh in my head like they had happened a few hours ago. Most of that time is a bit hazier but that memory – along with a few others - has stuck in my brain. _**'You know he tried to kiss me already,'**_

Peeta nods.

'_**He tried bargaining with me,' **_I tell him. _**'Asked me why I chose you over him,'**_

'_What did you say?'_

'_**The truth,' **_I reply simply. _**'That you're a better person than him in every way I can think,'**_

Peeta smiles.

'_**He told me you'd always be a liability, and that you'd never be able to tell me how much you love me. I told him he was wrong. And I think this,' **_I gesture at my stomach. _**'Will tell him how much you love me,'**_

'_You are amazing, you know that?' _Peeta grins. _'So what happened then?'_

'_**He got closer, practically begged me to kiss him, I told him where he could go, and you know the rest,'**_

'_And you don't want to give your last respects to our friend because you'll spend a couple hours in the same room as him?' _Peeta looks astounded. _'Come on Katniss, let's go,'_

'_**And if he tries to hit one of us?' **_I ask, I know that's a ridiculous excuse. I'm pretty sure even Gale wouldn't stoop so low as to hitting me while I'm pregnant, and even then there'll be more than enough witnesses to keep him in his place.

'_Easy,' _Peeta grins and smacks the thigh connecting to his fake leg. _'This thing's made out of steel, I know who'll come off better,'_

I laugh. Any worries about Gale are out of my mind now. I'm going to go pay my respects to a good friend.

And I'm doing it with the man I love.

**And that's all she wrote. **Well, for this fic anyway. Hope you've all enjoyed what you've read, I've definitely enjoyed writing it. To everyone who has reviewed I want to say thank you so much! You've all spurred me on to write more. I'd also like to say thanks to anyone who has added this fic to their alerts or favourited it. And to anyone who has added me as a favourite author or put me on their alerts. It means a lot to know you appreciate my work.

There's not much else I can really say. I won't be adding anything for a while because of other commitments but hopefully I'll be back with a vengeance after September. Until then take care everyone, thank you!


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